#not forcing of course 🩵

[fiercedaddy]

Guys i’m very sad 💔/j, my friend said “chronic pain but warriors” so i looked it up to find fics but there’s only one on ao3 :(

I want- no i NEEDD MORE

[thewulf]

Adding One || Paul Lahote

Summary: Request - Hi I love your Paul lahote stories!! I was wondering if you could do one super fluffy where the reader finds out she’s pregnant but is worried how Paul will feel because they’re still young and all the werewolf and vampire stuff is going on at the time!!🩵

A/N: I just love Paul. Thank you for the requests as always! @lunajay33

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k +

TW: Pregnancy

The warm scent of blueberry muffins filled Emily’s kitchen mingling with the faint tang of sea air drifting in through the open window. You were slouched in one of the chairs at her table with your cheek resting in your palm as you watched her move about the kitchen. The quiet hum of her voice as she talked about Sam and the pack was comforting, but it was hard to focus. Your stomach rolled again. That new unease building in the back of your mind.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Emily commented. Her voice cutting through the fog of your thoughts. She glanced at you over her shoulder, her sharp eyes softening when they landed on your face. “Are you feeling okay?”

You forced a smile, shrugging like it was nothing. “Just tired, I guess. It’s been a stressful few weeks, you know? All the patrols, Jacob imprinting on… that situation. It’s a lot.” You tried brushing her off.

Emily turned back to her muffins, humming as she pulled them from the oven and set them on the counter. “That’s true. It’s been hard on everyone.” She didn’t say anything else for a moment, but you could feel her watching you out of the corner of her eye. “Are you sure that’s all it is?” she asked gently not wanting to push too hard.

Your smile faltered. “Of course. What else would it be?”

Emily walked over and sat across from you. Her expression calm but concerned. “Well, you’ve been tired a lot lately. And you’ve barely eaten today. You won’t even touch my muffins like you always do. I also saw you push your plate away last week at dinner too.” She tilted her head, her tone as light as she could make it. “And I saw you make a face when I started the coffee earlier. You used to love coffee… I haven’t seen you drink a cup in weeks now.”

You stiffened slightly, trying to brush her off with a laugh. “I’m just… off, that’s all. It’s probably just stress or maybe a stomach bug. Nothing to worry about.” That unease grew in the pit of your stomach though.

She didn’t drop it. “Maybe,” she said slowly. Her dark eyes studying you. “But… have you thought it might be something else?”

You blinked at her, frowning. “Something else? Like what?”

She hesitated before she reached across the table to rest her hand on yours. “I don’t want to assume anything, but… you and Paul are together all the time. Could there be… another reason why you’re feeling this way?”

Her words hit you like a freight train and you immediately shook your head. Your voice pitching higher than you intended. “No. Absolutely not. There’s no way, Emily. We’re careful! I mean, mostly. But… no. That’s impossible.”

Emily gave you a patient look but didn’t pull her hand away. “I know you’re careful,” she said gently. “But accidents happen. When was the last time you had your period?” She asked the dreaded question… when was it?

The question made your heart lurch, and you froze. “I…” shit, you didn’t know, “I don’t know,” you stammered. “It’s been… I mean, I’m not great at keeping track, but…” Your voice trailed off as your mind began counting backward. The realization hitting you like a bucket of ice water on a freezing winter day. Your chest tightened. Your mouth suddenly ran dry.

Emily leaned forward slightly. Her voice soft but steady. “How long has it been?”

You swallowed hard while staring at her as the truth sank in. “I.... A month? Maybe more?” You guessed as you kept counting further back. No, it was more than a month now. It’d been nearly six weeks.

Emily’s expression didn’t change though there was a hint of sympathy in her eyes. “It might not be what you think,” she said carefully. “But maybe… maybe you should take a test. Just to be sure.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, and you instinctively shook your head again. “I can’t. What if it’s positive? What am I supposed to do? What’s Paul going to say? What about the pack or my parents? Shit! My parents Em!” Your voice cracked, panic bubbling up as the possibility became more real. Pregnant. You couldn’t possibly be pregnant. No, it was just stress. You’d been so stressed lately. Periods were often late when stress was abundant. Yeah, just stress.

Emily squeezed your hand. Her calm presence grounding you. “If it’s positive, you’ll figure it out like you always do. You’re not alone in this, okay? You have me. You have Paul. And you have the while pack. Whatever happens, we’ll all be here for you.” Her voice was low and soothing as it always was. Her reassurance should have been comforting, but your thoughts were spiraling. The only thing you could focus on was the quiet truth settling into the back of your mind. You might really be pregnant. She stood with you still trying to process what was likely true.

Emily slipped out the door after giving you a reassuring smile. Her keys jingling as she walked to the front door. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” she’d said. “And don’t even think about panicking while I’m gone. Just breathe. I’m going to go buy one from the pharmacy. It won’t be a big deal if someone sees me buying one.” Easier said than done.

You sat stiffly on the edge of the couch with your knee bouncing restlessly as the minutes ticked by. Emily was right. If anyone saw her buying a pregnancy test, they wouldn’t think twice about it. She and Sam were married, in their twenties, and settled. But you? At nineteen, unmarried, and still figuring out your life, the very idea of people finding out sent a wave of nausea through you.

When Emily returned, she came through the door with the same calm efficiency as before. She held a small paper bag like it contained something perfectly ordinary. She set it down on the table while brushing the rain from her hair as she gave you a steady look. “Alright,” she said. Her tone light but firm. “No one saw me. Not that it would’ve mattered. But I figured you’d want to hear that.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Thank God. I’d die right here if word got back to my mom. Or the whole reservation.” You peeked through your fingers, your voice dropping to a mutter. “This place is like a fishbowl.”

Emily laughed softly and slid the bag toward you. “Relax. It’s done. Now, the next part is up to you.”

You stared at the bag. Your palms suddenly very disgustingly sweaty. Your heart hammered as you reached out and pulled the slim box from inside, the pink lettering glaring up at you like a warning. “I feel like I’m in one of those cheesy after-school specials,” you mumbled, your voice shaky as you tried to make light of the situation.

Emily gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze. “You’re not. You’re just figuring out what’s next. Go on. I’ll wait here.” With a long breath you stood and made your way to the bathroom, the box clutched tightly in your hands. The next few minutes felt like an eternity. You sat on the edge of the bathtub staring at the little plastic stick on the counter, its blank screen taunting you.

When your phone buzzed with the timer you’d set, your stomach flipped. You stood slowly, your hands trembling as you picked up the test. Two pink lines.

Positive.

Your knees felt weak as you gripped the counter for support as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over you. A strange mix of fear, joy, and uncertainty swirled in your chest, leaving you utterly breathless. You stared at the test for a long moment trying to process what it meant. Your hand drifted to your abdomen as you gulped.

When you finally emerged from the bathroom, Emily was waiting on the couch. Her face was soft as ever with understanding. She looked up as you stepped into the room, the test still clutched in your hand. “Well?” she asked gently. Her brown eyes searching your face for any sign of what it said.

You held up the test. Your mouth dry. “I guess I’m pregnant,” you said with your voice unsteady. Then in a weak attempt to lighten the mood you added with a shaky laugh, “Stealing Bella’s thunder, huh?” Bella’s pregnancy had been the talk of the pack ever since the group found out what she was carrying. Then the vampire human baby decided to make its appearance after only 28 days. The thought sent a shiver down your spine as you thought of what carrying a werewolf baby would entail.

Emily blinked, then burst into laughter. Her head tilting back as she shook her head. “Oh, you’ve got to stop hanging out with Paul so much. You’re picking up his sense of humor.” She grinned as she gave your arm a reassuring squeeze.

Despite your spinning thoughts her laughter pulled a smile from you. She wrapped you in a warm, steady hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she murmured, her voice firm. “Paul loves you so much. More than I ever thought he’d be capable of. You’re not doing this alone.” You clung to her words like a lifeline as tears brimmed in your eyes. You weren’t sad… no, not at all. You were simply overwhelmed as this had not been in your plans. You were going to get married to Paul in a few years and maybe have some kid’s years after that. Not now. But life had a funny way of throwing you completely off. First, being imprinted to a damned werewolf. Now this.

You sat at the kitchen table with the pregnancy test still in your hand. Emily had made you a cup of tea. The warm mug sitting untouched in front of you as your thoughts spiraled. You’d stared at the little pink lines so long now that they were practically burned into your vision. A constant reminder of the new, terrifying reality that had just taken shape.

Emily leaned against the counter, watching you with a mixture of patience and quiet concern. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked gently.

You let out a shaky breath, placing the test down on the table so gently as if it might explode. “Everything,” you said. Your voice barely above a whisper. “I mean… Paul and I are nineteen. This wasn’t exactly in the plan. What if he’s not ready for this? What if he feels… trapped?” The thought made your stomach churn. You couldn’t shake the image of his face falling when you told him.

Emily frowned, stepping closer and taking the chair across from you. “Yes, you both are young, but you know he’s devoted to you. He’d run through fire for you without thinking twice. That’s the bond. It’s unshakable.”

You nodded slowly, but her reassurance only soothed one layer of your anxiety. “But what about my parents?” you asked. Your voice cracking yet again. “If they find out, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. They’ll say I’m ruining my life. That we’re not ready. And Paul’s parents… What if they think I’m irresponsible or… God forbid, trying to trap him or something?”

Emily shook her head firmly. “No one who knows you would think that. You and Paul have been through so much already and you’ve come out stronger every time. His parents will see that. His parents love you. And as for your parents…” She gave you a small, wry smile. “They’ll probably be shocked at first. Maybe even upset. But they’ll come around. They always do.”

You laughed bitterly, rubbing your temples. “It’s not just them. It’s the pack, too. What are they going to think? There’s so much going on right now. Jacob imprinting on a half-vampire baby, the Cullen drama, all of it. This is the worst time for this to happen. What if they see it as a distraction? What if they resent me for pulling Paul’s attention away?”

Emily reached out grabbing for your hand. “First of all, no one in that pack would resent you. You know how they are. They’re family, even if they don’t always show it the right way. And second, you’re not pulling Paul’s attention away. If anything, this will give him more to fight for. Plus, I think they all like you more than Paul anyway.” She added with a mischievous grin.

Your chest tightened at her words. A mix of hope and fear swirling inside you. “But what if I’m not enough?” you whispered. “What if I can’t handle this? What if I ruin everything?”

Emily’s grip on your hand tightened. Her scarred fingers warm and steady. “You’re more than enough,” she said firmly. “You’re strong and you have so many people who love and adore you. You’re not doing this alone. Paul’s going to be over the moon, you’ll see. And the pack? They’ll probably throw a barbecue to celebrate.”

Despite the storm of emotions swirling in your chest that last comment drew a weak laugh from you. “Yeah, and Embry will probably make a joke about Paul being the first one to ‘start a litter,’” you muttered.

Emily grinned. “Probably. But you’ve got to admit, they’d all step up to make sure you and that baby are safe. It’s what they do.”

You took a shaky sip of tea. The warmth grounding you for a moment. Deep down you knew Emily was right. But the thought of telling Paul, and everyone else, still felt like standing on the edge of a cliff. “Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” you murmured while staring down at your tea. “I just hope you’re right.”

Emily smiled softly, giving your hand one last squeeze. “I’m always right,” she teased. Her voice light. “Now, let’s figure out how you’re going to tell Paul. You’ve got this.”

Just as you were going to ask her how in the hell you’d drop this bomb on him the front door opened loudly, followed by the familiar sound of Paul’s laugh, low and warm, rolling through the house. “We’re back!” Quil called out, clearly in a good mood. Jared muttered something about food and within seconds all three of them were in the kitchen rummaging around for snacks.

You sat frozen at the kitchen table gripping your mug of now-cold tea. Your eyes were glued to the wall like it might have answers to the mess of thoughts tangling in your head. Emily shot you a look that practically screamed, you better handle this soon, before helping the hungry wolves to whatever snack she deemed acceptable.

“Hey,” Paul’s voice broke through the fog. You looked up just as he walked over to you. His usual easy grin faltering slightly as he studied your face. He crouched in front of you, his warm hands resting on your knees. “You okay? You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” you asked. Your voice faltering slightly as you tried to sound normal.

“The one that says you’re either about to cry or punch someone.” He tilted his head. His grin returning. “Hopefully not me.”

You forced a laugh but it came out weak and shaky. “I’m fine. Just tired. You know, the usual.”

Paul narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. His sharp instincts both as a wolf and your imprint meant there was no hiding anything from him for long. “Uh-huh. Sure babe. You’re totally not being weird. Not at all.” He teased lightly.

“I am not!” you shot back too quickly. His brows shot up.

“Okay…” He dragged the word out, standing and looking toward the kitchen where Quil and Jared were now arguing over a loaf of bread. Paul glanced back at you. His concern deepening. “Wanna take a walk? Fresh air might feel good.”

You hesitated. Your pulse roaring in your ears. You couldn’t do this here. Not with Jared and Quil’s supernatural hearing and Emily’s knowing looks. “Yeah,” you muttered finally, standing abruptly. “Let’s go.”

Paul smiled softly and walked behind you as you made your way out of the house. He grabbed his jacket and followed you out the door. The crisp air hit your skin, grounding you slightly as you led him down the gravel path toward the edge of the forest. Paul stayed quiet. His hands stuffed in his pockets as he matched your pace. He didn’t push but you could feel his eyes on you. His quiet presence making your nerves churn even more.

When you finally stopped, he turned to face you. His expression soft but cautious. “Alright then,” he said, leaning back against a tree. His arms crossing over his chest. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting… off since we got back. And don’t tell me it’s nothing because I know you better than that love.”

You fidgeted. Your fingers twisting the hem of your sweater as you avoided his gaze. Your stomach was in knots and the words felt stuck in your throat. “Paul, I… I need to tell you something,” you started. Your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he said, his tone steady but laced with worry. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Instead, you made a strange almost choking sound which made his eyes widen. “Are you okay? It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” he said while stepping closer.

“I’m fine!” you said too quickly yet again. Your voice pitching higher than you wanted. “It’s just… this is… ugh!” You threw your hands up while pacing a few steps before spinning back to face him. “You’re going to freak out.”

Paul blinked slowly. His brows knitting together as a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this worked up before babe. What’s going on?” You just had to tell him. Just do it.

You stopped pacing. Your chest tightening as you blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Paul’s face went blank, his arms dropping to his sides as he stared at you. You felt the blood drain from your face. The panic rising as his lack of reaction stretched on. “Paul?” you whispered. Your voice trembling. “Say something. Please, say something.”

He blinked, his lips parting slightly. “You’re serious?” he asked in a silky soft voice like he was trying to make sure he’d heard you right.

You nodded. Your throat tight. “Yeah. I just found out today. I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to be like this. I wasn’t even sure how I should tell you, because I know we’re young, and everything’s crazy right now, and…”

“Shh,” he said cutting you off gently. He stepped forward completely closing the distance between you. His hands finding your arms as he looked down at you. Those chocolate brown eyes searching yours. “You’re pregnant? We’re… having a baby? Our baby?”

Your heart pounded as you nodded again with tears welling up in your eyes. “Yeah.”

A slow grin spread across his face. It started small but grew until it lit up his whole expression. He laughed softly almost in disbelief and suddenly pulled you into his arms. He held you so tightly you could barely breathe. “You’re serious?” he asked again. His voice muffled against your hair. “We’re having a baby?”

You let out a watery laugh. Your hands clutching at his jacket. “Yeah. We’re having a baby.” You said softly.

Paul pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes shining with something you couldn’t quite name. “You’re amazing,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I mean it. I can’t even…” He broke off, shaking his head like he couldn’t find the words. “This is crazy, but it’s… it’s amazing. I’m so happy right now,” He grinned before pulling you in for a kiss, “We’re having a baby!”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as a laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not scared? Or mad?”

“Of course, I’m scared,” he admitted. His hands moving to cradle your face. “But I’m not mad. Never. You’re my world, and now… now we’re building something together. How could I be anything but happy about that?”

You sniffled, leaning into his touch. “Well, I’m glad one of us is confident. Because I was ready to fake my death and disappear into the woods.”

Paul laughed before kissing your forehead softly. “Not a chance. You’re stuck with me, babe. And this kid? They’re going to have the best damn parents in the world.” His hand ran over your abdomen gently.

A small, tentative smile tugged at your lips as you rested your forehead against his neck. “I hope you’re ready to break the news to the pack, though. I can already hear Embry’s jokes.”

Paul’s grin only widened. A glimmer of excitement sparking in his eyes. “We’ve got to tell them.”

Your stomach dropped, and you blinked at him. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” he said. His voice filled with conviction. “Why wouldn’t we? This is huge! It’s amazing! They’re going to be so happy for us.”

“Paul,” you said slowly while trying to reel him back in. “We just found out. Don’t you think we should… I don’t know, let it sink in first? Maybe figure out how we’re going to explain this before we say anything?”

But Paul shook his head. His hands framing your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. “There’s nothing to explain, babe. This is good news. They’re family. They’ll support us no matter what. And if anyone has anything negative to say…” His voice dropped slightly. A spark of protectiveness flaring in his tone. “They’ll have to deal with me. But they’re going to be so excited love. So damn excited.”

You hesitated. Your doubts lingering. “It’s not that simple, Paul. What if they think it’s irresponsible? Or too soon?”

He took your hands, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Look, I know things are messy right now. The timing might not be perfect. But then again, when is it ever? What matters is that this is ours. You, me, and this baby. We’re going to be okay because we have each other.” His voice softened and the corners of his lips tugged into a smile. “I want to celebrate that with the people who care the most about us.”

His sincerity broke through your defenses, and you sighed, nodding reluctantly. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure of anything,” he said. His smile warm and full of pride. “You’re carrying our baby. How could I not want to shout it from the rooftops?”

A small laugh slipped out despite yourself. You shook your head at his antics. “Fine. But if this goes sideways, you’re the one dealing with the fallout.”

Paul chuckled, pulling you close and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Deal. Now, let’s go tell them.”

As he led you back toward the house, his excitement practically radiating off him, you still felt a twinge of nerves. But the way he held your hand, so steady and unshakable, made you believe that somehow everything would work out.

The moment you and Paul stepped back into the house. Emily’s eyes flicked to the two of you. Her lips curled into the smallest, most knowing smile. Her gaze lingered on Paul who was still vibrating with energy like he could barely contain himself. She exhaled softly, relief washing over her face.

“He knows, doesn’t he?” she asked you, her voice low enough that only you and Paul could hear.

“Of course, I know,” Paul cut in with his grin so wide it was practically smug. “You really think she could keep something like this from me?” His arm wrapped protectively around your waist. His hand warm against your side as he glanced down at you. “She tried, though. Gotta give her credit.”

Emily’s smile grew. She stepped closer to squeeze your hand. “I’m glad you told him,” she said simply. Her calm steadiness grounded you in a way nothing else could.

Jared and Quil, however, were still oblivious. Quil frowned at Paul. His sandwich frozen halfway to his mouth. “What’s up with you? You look like you just hit the jackpot.”

“Yeah,” Jared added, leaning back against the counter. “You’ve got that weird, smug thing going on. Like you know something we don’t.”

Paul smirked, his fingers flexing slightly on your waist. “Maybe I do.”

Quil rolled his eyes. “You gonna share with the class, or…?”

Paul leaned against the back of the couch looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Let’s wait until everyone’s here,” he said, glancing toward the door. “Don’t wanna repeat myself.”

Jared groaned. “Dude, seriously? You’re such a…”

“Later,” Paul interrupted. His grin growing wider. Jared muttered something under his breath, but Paul didn’t seem to care. His attention stayed on you. His thumb brushing absently along your hip.

By the time Sam and the rest of the pack arrived the room was buzzing with conversation. The pack had settled in, tired but loud as usual, filling the space with their usual chaos. You could feel your nerves creeping back but Paul’s steady presence beside you kept them at bay.

Once the noise quieted enough for him to speak, Paul cleared his throat. All eyes turned toward him. The sudden intensity of his expression silencing even Quil’s usual chatter.

Emily, sipping her tea, shot Paul a look. Silently daring him to be subtle. But Paul being Paul had no plans for subtlety. He straightened while crossing his arms over his chest as he cleared his throat. “Me and Y/N… we’re not just us anymore. We’re adding one.”

The room went silent. All eyes turning toward him. Jared frowned. “What does that even mean?”

Quil looked at you both, confused. “Wait. Did you get a dog? Please tell me it’s a dog.”

Paul smirked, clearly reveling in the suspense. “Nope. Not a dog.”

Embry tilted his head, his brows furrowed. “A cat? Fish? What?”

Paul chuckled, dragging it out just a little longer. “Think bigger.”

Quil’s eyes narrowed and then he gasped. His mouth dropping open. “Oh my God! You’re moving?! Are you leaving the rez?”

Paul groaned before dragging a hand down his face. “No! Not moving, not a pet, not a damn secret stash of food.” He glanced at you. His grin softening slightly and nodded like it was your moment to take over.

And you couldn’t help it. With all their clueless guesses and Paul’s smug antics a laugh bubbled out of you, warm and uncontrollable. Everyone froze, watching you with the most curious eyes and through your laughter, you managed to blurt, “We’re having a baby!”

The room went completely still for a beat, Jared’s apple frozen mid-air as his jaw dropped. Quil looked between you and Paul. His face blank before he finally sputtered, “Wait… like an actual baby?” Even Sam looked a little shell shocked at that news.

“Yes, Quil,” Paul said dryly though his grin betrayed his pride. “An actual baby. Our baby.”

Jared blinked rapidly then burst out laughing, slapping the counter. “Holy shit. You’re serious? Paul Lahote’s gonna be a dad?”

Quil let out a strangled laugh while running a hand through his hair. “Wow. This poor kid’s gonna have your temper, huh? Better hope they get your patience.” He looked at you with a knowing grin.

Sam, who had entered the room halfway through the chaos, finally stepped forward. His expression calm but full of warmth. “That’s great news,” he said simply while clapping Paul on the shoulder before looking at you. “You’re both going to be amazing parents.”

The pack didn’t hold back after that. Quil and Jared immediately started throwing out ridiculous suggestions for baby names while Embry vowed to make the baby a tiny wolf plushie as a first gift. The teasing was relentless, but it was full of love. It was clear that they were genuinely happy for you both. Your earlier nerves vanishing in an instant at their exuberance.

Hours later when the house had quieted and everyone had left, you and Paul found yourselves alone in the dimly lit living room. You curled up against his side. Your head resting on his chest as his arm draped securely around you.

“You know,” you murmured, smiling faintly, “your announcement was terrible.”

Paul laughed. The sound rumbling through his chest. “Terrible? That was brilliant.”

“You had everyone thinking we got a dog,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I think Quil’s still processing.”

Paul smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Hey, I had to keep them guessing. Besides, you’re the one who cracked under pressure.”

You rolled your eyes but the warmth in his gaze softened your retort. His hand moved to your stomach, resting there gently as he whispered, “We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. Your voice steady. “We are.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple. His voice low and full of quiet conviction. “It’s gonna be perfect. You, me, and our little one. We’ve got this.”

Paul’s lips brushed against yours, slow and deliberate, grounding you for a fleeting moment. His hand, warm and steady on your stomach, reminded you of the little life you’d just announced to the pack. But the moment his forehead rested against yours the weight of what was coming next crept back in.

Your parents. His parents.

You pulled back slightly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as your heart pounded. “Paul,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “How are we going to tell them? My mom is going to flip, and not in a good way. And your mom…”

“Hey,” Paul interrupted softly, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “Look at me.”

You hesitated but the steady warmth in his eyes drew you in. His grin was softer now, tempered with something deeper. “We’ll tell them the same way we told the pack, together. And if your mom flips, I’ll handle it. I’ll handle all of it. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“I don’t know if you’ve met my mom,” you whispered. Your voice wavering as you tried to find humor in the situation. “She’s going to think this is reckless. She’ll probably yell. A lot.”

Paul’s grin widened, and he tipped your chin up with his knuckle before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Then let her yell. I’ll stand there and take it because, at the end of the day, none of that matters. What matters is us and this baby.”

You swallowed hard trying to keep your emotions from bubbling over. “But what if it’s too much? What if they think we’re too young, or not ready, or…”

Paul’s grip on you tightened slightly. His voice cutting through your spiral. “Then I’ll marry you tomorrow,” he said. His tone firm but laced with tenderness. “If that’s what it takes to make them see how serious I am, I’ll do it. Hell, I’ll do it tonight if you want.”

Your breath caught as you stared at him, wide-eyed. “You’re not serious.”

“I’m completely serious,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I love you. I love this baby. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my family now. You’ve always been my family and nothing, not your mom, not mine, not anyone, is going to change that.”

The conviction in his voice broke something loose in your chest. The fear and doubt unraveling as his words sank in. You let out a shaky laugh with tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just solve everything by offering to marry me, you know.”

Paul smirked, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Maybe not, but it’s a pretty damn good start, isn’t it?”

You laughed again, softer this time, and leaned into him, letting his steady warmth anchor you. “We’ll figure it out,” you murmured more to yourself than him.

“We already are,” he said, his voice low and sure. “One step at a time. And I’m not going anywhere, no matter what. You know that love.”

As his arms tightened around you, you felt it, the certainty he carried, the unwavering belief that you could face anything together. It didn’t erase all your fears, but it made them feel a little smaller, a little more manageable.

And for now, and forever that would be enough.

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[svetamillss]

Headcanons: household chores with them🩵

Featuring: Thanos( Su Bong) x Reader(f), Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Se Mi x Reader(f)

A/N: If you have ideas about what to write, you can always talk about it!

🩵🩵🩵

Thanos (Su Bong)🖤

Unfortunately, you can have quarrels literally every day because of this. After all, your boyfriend is still a "household disabled person". You have to force him to do something around the house, of course, heavy sighs and indignation will come in response.

Thank God that he at least tries to do it without mistakes.

It happens that you are at work, and he is at home all day. You ask him to wash the floors and do the laundry, of course he promises to do everything in the best possible way, but in the end he does nothing, because he forgot. That's when you get nervous and start yelling at him.

- Well, you promised to do it! You stayed at home all day! Why do I have to clean the house after work? - you said almost crying, because during the day you got very tired and hoped for your boyfriend.

- Don't cry! I just forgot, anything happens! I'll do everything now! - the guy answers you irritably.

- I'll do everything myself, mind your own business. - you were angry with him, so you didn't want to see his help, but he still followed you, taking you by the hand and sending you the room.

- It's my fault that I forgot. I'll do everything now. - and he really started to wash the floor and deal with the laundry.

Cho Hyun Ju💗

Living with this woman is a fairy tale. You immediately divided the responsibilities around the house. You took more cleaning, and she cooks (since food turns out very tasty). Sometimes you change tasks if some circumstances occur (some of you were detained at work, some of you got sick, and so on), but this absolutely does not bother you.

- Baby, don't make any plans for Sunday, please.

- No problem, but why? - you asked her.

- I want to do a general cleaning, and it will take a lot of time, but don't worry, after we do it, we'll watch the movie and eat something tasty. - she said, kissing you on the forehead.

Of course, you agreed, it wasn't a tragedy for you to do a general cleaning. After all, you will still spend the whole day with your Hyunnie.

Kang Dae Ho🩵

Living with this guy is a dream. After all, he was raised by four older sisters, so he is very attentive to you (well, straight by 1,000,000 percent). He is ready to do all the work himself.

- My love, I don't need to help, you'd better rest, you've been very tired.- he said when you volunteered to help him clean the closet.

- It's not fair! You're also very tired for a week, if I help, it will take much less time! - you were indignant, but it worked, although he agreed with a heavy sigh, but you rewarded him with a kiss on the lips.

Thanks to you, the cleaning took about two hours, so you decided to go for a walk outside, after all, the weather was very good.

Se Mi💋

When you moved in, you had a problem about who would do what household chores. After all, both of you weren't really good at cleaning or cooking.

- Maybe we'll do everything together then? Then we won't have any difficulties! - you suggested with a smile, to which your girlfriend gladly agreed.

- It's a great idea, sweet. We will look after each other, at the same time we will spend more time together.

Of course, you sometimes have small arguments, for example, that one of you did not clean up very well and seems to be a little lazy, but you solve them very quickly. After all, you have a good harmony in your relationship.

🩵🩵🩵

[hoshigray]

Mean sukugo smutty smut 🩷🩵

in a sukugo mood, soooo . . .

꯳⃘꤫⃛✿ contents: Sukuna + Gojo x gn! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - face-fucking - impact play (spanking) - spit-roasting + back-to-front positions - degradation + humiliation - choking - spitting - unprotected sex - creampies - pet names (crybaby, plaything, pet, sweetie) - mention of drool/spit, tears & pain.

“Suck it, pig.”

A night with Gojo and Sukuna is one you could never forget in your entire life, especially when they’re just plain ole’ nasty and mean to your poor little body. It doesn’t matter if there is a good cop or bad cop — somewhere down the line, those words will hold no meaning in that mushy, fucked-out brain of yours…

Picture it: your face smooshed to the mere pink pubes of Sukuna’s dick, forced to orally accommodate the foreign limb that invades your cavity and hits the back of your throat without your control. Not that you’d bother; your hands are already balled up into fists on the couch armrest while Gojo plows his cock into you from the back. 

Your words are substituted for tone-down cries as Sukuna shoves his length to and fro from your aching lips. He pinches you by the cheek, and you howl on his member. “Dumb bitch can’t suck it right, huh? Loosen that fucking jaw,” his commands harsh yet roll off his tongue like honey. “There you go…fuck, there you go, pet.”

Another hit onto hot skin, this time from behind. “Shiiit, you get so tight when I do that!” Gojo sighs heavily after intaking a gasp at how well the walls of your entrance clamp around him from striking your butt. And, of course, he does it again. “More—tighten up more for me…!”

Good Lord, look at you. Your fuzzy eyes are locked on Sukuna, who smirks and drills himself into you. The warmth of your body spreads and amplifies throughout your face and lower half. The skin of your butts stings with the prickles of pain that befall from the onslaught of slaps Gojo puts on you, and the snow-haired man only groans lowly at the glorious sensation of your squeeze. So sweet and tender on his member, the hammer of his pelvis causing your ass to jiggle as he ventures deep into places you could never fathom and scratch spots on your walls thanks to the curve of his cock. 

The pink-haired man’s pace quickens, his wet balls smacking your chin where your drool spills and drizzles down to the armrest. Your head pounds with every rut. Fuuuck, fuck…! This is too much!!

“—Hmmph, shit, stay fucking still, you fucking slut! Quit squirmin’ and cryin’.”

How could you not, though? When the back of your knees holds your legs up by Sukuns while he pistons up to your chasm filled with come, and your brain gets foggier by the second, it’s evident that you start to act in hysterics. 

Your sweaty ass is inherently glued to the salmon-headed one’s thighs; Sukuna sits on the couch with you on top of him. His black-painted nails digging into your skin, adding more marks to your body to leave you sore afterward. Come from your ridge escapes with every plow, trickling past the white ring around Sukuna’s base of his dick and down to the couch seats.

Gojo – can’t forget him – wrings your neck, his pale, slender fingers constricting airways to worsen the headache. “Awww, is that tears I see?” He coos in a pleasant tone — patronizing, no doubt. “Heh, such a crybaby,” his hold narrows, pushing your head back to Sukuna’s shoulder. 

“—Mmm, keheh, so tight…Like getting choked out, huh?” Sukuna cockles hoarsely, dropping your legs to grab onto your waist, same fingernails leaving lines of indented torture for you to wallow and squirm. “Hmmm…shit, look at you, twitching around me like you’re getting off to it like a real dirty bitch. Pathetic plaything.”

“Ahaha, whatcha got your mouth open for?” Gojo inquires, his grasp on your neck getting tighter forces your mouth agape. “Keep it open,” as if you have a choice in that matter, letting the tall man degrade you by spitting into your mouth. He grabs his erect dick and strokes, and then his hand covers your lips. “Now swallow.”

Moans are all that’s left of you; thinking hurts while your body is being used to please the rough men putting you through such a rush. Gojo’s hands return around your neck to choke you, your head reaching a new level of light-headedness that you can’t comprehend. And Sukuna’s fat shaft, with the merciless speed of his hips, pounds, and burrows into your inner channel that you can’t keep your eyes open. The haze is unavoidable, and the lack of oxygen has you gag. 

Until Gojo removes his fingers and palms for you to cough, hacking up under strained breath as your body decides to hit you with the sharpest keen of your life, shocks coursing up your spine to your brain to leave a sting. Tears stream down a hot face while your chasm flutters around Sukuna’s length, and Gojo jerks himself in a rush, enjoying the view of your lewd appearance.  

Eventually, strings of his release eject out of the urethra, hitting your tummy and sliding down to your sex, right as Sukuna lets himself loose and bursts his load to stuff inside you. And he doesn’t let you go until he’s certain every drop of him is where it’s supposed to be, pushing you off him. Semen coating your sweaty frame and hole, and all the men could do was chuckle at the crude display.

© HOSHIGRAY2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[emmyrosee]

*hoping this is the inbox lol

I’d like to request something for Bakugo, if you haven’t done something similar already!

the scenario could be something like, the reader is on her way home at nighttime to their + Bakugo’s shared apartment and she starts to feel like someone (or a villain) is following her, so she starts trying to subtly contact him (before the villain knows she’s onto them) and eventually needs to start calling/running because the follower/villain is directly starting to attack.

Bakugo could probably be waiting for the reader to get back home and wondering why they’re taking so long, or also on his way back from work as he gets the messages. Reader may/may not get hurt or taken, lol.

but yeah overall, I am in my feels for dramatic and protective Bakugo 🤧 sorry if it sounds too specific, I’m not holding ya to that at all, just sharing the overall idea and would love to see your take!

I hope you have a great day/evening!!

tw // insinuated attacks with NO intense details, angst, dangerous situations, no comfort.

———-

SENT please, for the love of all that is holy, answer me

katsuki im so scared rn Please

im sorry about earlier

But now is not the time to be petty

Katsuki please

Please

whatever happens I love you

I love you so much

you were the greatest thing that ever happened to me.

You’d gotten into a fight this morning.

It was over something minuscule, about throwing away the empty cartons of milk, but apparently it was more than enough to upset Katsuki to the point of silencing your notifications. It had been building up for weeks, little jabs here and there until of course, this morning.

But now’s not a good time for him to not take the high road.

Not when there’s someone only twenty paces behind you, walking step for step with you. Fear grips your heart as you try to muster the courage to face them, so you keep your head down and spam Katsuki with as many messages as your fingers can.

Every once in a while, they clear their throat, just to remind you that they’re there, they’re right behind you and dare you to say or do anything to make them pounce. You don't want to risk it, not when there's no one around to help you. No witnesses, no cameras you know of, nothing to keep you any semblance of safe, only you and your mental gymnastics of debating on confronting the culprit head on, or continue this predator and prey game. You could duck in this little alcove, the alleyway adjacent to you, in an attempt to get away.

You clear your throat. You spin on your heel.

“Is there a problem?”

You choose to face the situation, heart beating faster than an engine, and hands clenched into fists. You wait for your phone to do something, vibrate, chime, ring, anything. But nothing happens.

Katsuki isn’t coming.

The terror looks at you and shrugs, “no, no problem. Why?”

“Because you are directly behind me, breathing down my neck.”

“I was trying to go around you,” they say simply.

You furrow your brows and clench your fists, “then fucking walk around me. Go.” You step to the side and extend your arm out, gesturing them to keep walking. “Go. Go around.”

They click their tongue and shake their head, taking strides to get past you, with their hands jammed into their pockets. You watch with frightened eyes as they approach, ready to fight back when need be.

They pause right in front of you. Your heart leaps in your chest.

“Ain’t anyone ever taught you beware of alleys?”

The world slows down as you watch a massive hand dart up to your face, grabbing your maw and forcing you in the alley, keeping you from screaming. They jam you deeper inside, and your vision blurs with tears of fear as the streetlights grow smaller the farther they move you into the alley.

Your phone clatters to the ground as your adrenaline kicks up, and bile rises in your throat.

This is it, isn’t it?

bk 🩵 the fuck?

What’re you on about?

Why’re you scared?

Im with deku, my phone was off

What the fuck

No, you’re going to answer me

Right now.

You think I’m playing?

Where are you

Babe, please

You’re scaring me

I love you. I’m sorry I yelled

But you need to answer me

You’re okay you’re fine we’re fine

We’re on our way I got your location

Stay put. Don’t you fucking move

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika x Sensory Issues Reader

Reader is having a headache due to the lights and covers her eyes right as Sevika walks in, tells Sevika to quiet down please as Sevika was being rather loud. Sevika thinks reader doesn’t want to see her and is distant all day while reader deals with the headache. Reader is locked in a dark room watching her dinosaur documentaries ofc, when Sevika finally came in and laid on readers lap giving in and apologizing. Reader is confused of course and simply played with her hair and asked what was wrong.

-🩵

Sensory Issues

On it, 🩵 This is a peculiar request, and anon if the door was locked how'd Sevika get in?

The moment Sevika stepped into the room, her voice was already filling the space—rough, confident, a little too loud for the sensitive throb pounding behind your temples.

You winced at the sudden brightness of the hallway light spilling in, instinctively lifting a hand to shield your eyes.

With a tired sigh, you muttered, "Sevika, quiet down, please."

She stiffened, her footfall hesitating on the threshold before stepping fully inside. You didn’t look up, still pressing your palm over your eyes as if that alone could dull the ache splitting your skull in half.

You didn’t notice the way her expression flickered, something uncertain ghosting across her other than that angry features.

Sevika had assumed the worst. Maybe you didn’t want to see her. Maybe she’d done something wrong.

The thought sat heavy in her chest, but she didn’t press for answers. Instead, she scoffed softly, muttered something under her breath, and turned on her heel to leave.

You barely registered the sound of the door clicking shut.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of dull, pounding pain. You had retreated into the sanctuary of your darkened room, the only source of light coming from the soft glow of your screen.

A dinosaur documentary played—something familiar, comforting, the narrator’s voice a low hum that didn’t aggravate your migraine.

Wrapped in blankets, you hardly moved, sinking into the quiet solitude.

Sevika, however, was nowhere to be seen.

You weren’t sure when you dozed off, but the next thing you registered was the creak of your bedroom door opening.

Heavy footsteps approached, slow and deliberate, before the bed dipped under a familiar weight. A moment later, something warm and solid forced it's way on your lap.

You blinked and saw Sevika stuff her face where your crotch was, arms holding your waist.

She sighed, deep and resigned, before mumbling, "Alright. I give up."

You blinked again, fingers instinctively carding through her dark, thick hair, smoothing it out as she let her weight settle more fully. "Give up on what?"

She huffed. "Being pissed off."

"Why?"

"I thought you didn't want to see me," she admitted, voice quieter than before. "You covered your eyes the second I walked in. Told me to shut up. I figured… I dunno, maybe I pissed you off."

Your hand stilled for just a second before resuming its gentle motions. "Sevika, I had a headache. The lights and the noise were too much. It wasn’t about you."

She exhaled sharply, like she’d just realized how ridiculous she’d been. "Shit. I was brooding all day for nothing." She grumbled, face still in a very questionable spot.

You laughed softly, thumb brushing against her temple. "Yeah, pretty much."

She groaned, pressing her face against your stomach like she could physically bury her embarrassment. You chuckled, playing with a strand of her hair. "You're ridiculous."

"Shut up."

You hummed, leaning your head back against the pillow, enjoying the way her weight grounded you. "If it makes you feel better, I’m glad you’re here now."

She grumbled something unintelligible but melted in your touch.

[ivyues]

Chauffeur Duties | 4 | - Seungmin

Seungmin x Lee Know's sister

After a sudden downpour, your brother picked you up, leading to a confrontation with your boyfriend, Seungmin.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

A/N: many thanks to 🩵 for the ideas! <3

The rain came out of nowhere.

One moment, you were walking home, minding your own business, and the next, the sky had cracked open, drenching everything in sight. Your hoodie was no match for the sudden downpour, and within minutes, you were soaked to the bone.

Instinct took over, and before you even realized what you were doing, your fingers were already pressing your brother's contact.

"What?" Lew Know's voice came through the line, already laced with annoyance.

"Can you pick me up?" you asked, shivering slightly as you ducked under a bus stop for minimal cover.

A sigh. "Where are you?"

You sent him your location, and he grumbled something about you always being a hassle before hanging up. You knew he’d come, though. That was just Lee Know's way of showing he cared – through mild exasperation and reluctant acts of service.

Fifteen minutes later, his car pulled up, and you scrambled inside, dripping all over his passenger seat. He clicked his tongue but didn’t say anything about it, instead tossing a towel onto your lap as he pulled away from the curb.

"You better not get my seat all gross," he muttered, eyes on the road.

"I'll clean it later," you promised, toweling off my hair. "Thanks for picking me up."

"Yeah, yeah." His voice was gruff, but then he added, "You’re lucky I wasn’t busy."

You bit back a smile, choosing not to argue with him.

The ride was mostly quiet except for the hum of the engine and the occasional swish of the windshield wipers. But as you paid more attention to the streets he was taking, your stomach twisted.

He wasn’t driving towards your home. He was driving in the direction of Felix's and Seungmin’s dorm.

Panic crept in, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral.

"Where are we going?" you asked, feigning curiosity.

Lee Know gave you a side glance. "Thought you’d want to see your lap dog of a boyfriend."

You blinked at him, your grip tightening on the towel. He said it so easily, so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he actually... cared?

You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the timing of it all. On any other day, you would’ve been ecstatic – your brother showing even the slightest support for your relationship with Seungmin was nothing short of a miracle. But today? Today was different.

Because Seungmin and you had argued earlier. It wasn’t a big fight, but it left a strange weight in your chest, and you weren't ready to see him yet. Not like this, not soaking wet and emotionally scrambled. And if Lee Know knew you’d argued? Oh, he’d definitely have some choice words for Seungmin – words you weren't in the mood to mediate.

"I, uh—" you scrambled for an excuse. "I don’t want to bother him. He’s probably busy."

Lee Know snorted. "He’s probably just playing games. You’ll be fine."

Of course, Lee Know would be difficult about this. You glanced out the window, your pulse picking up as the dorms came closer. You could tell him the truth. You could tell him that you weren't in the right headspace to see Seungmin right now, that you’d had a disagreement, and you just wanted to go home.

But then he’d press for details. And if those details even slightly painted Seungmin in a bad light, Lee Know would hold onto them like ammunition. He’d never say it outright, but you knew he was protective of you in his own way, and you didn’t want to give him reasons to be wary of your relationship.

"Actually, I think I just want to go home," you said as casually as possible. "I really just want to dry off and sleep."

Lee Know side-eyed you but didn’t say anything at first. His fingers drummed against the wheel as you stopped at a red light.

Then, without a word, he changed lanes and turned towards your home instead.

Relief flooded you, but you didn’t dare let it show.

"You’re weird," Minho muttered under his breath.

You smiled slightly, hugging the towel closer. "Thanks for the ride."

He just rolled his eyes and kept driving.

-----

The next morning, you woke up to a string of messages from Seungmin. Your stomach twisted as you hesitated before unlocking your phone.

Mong Mong (10:34 PM): Hey, are you home safe? 

Mong Mong (10:35 PM): I heard it started pouring. Did you get caught in it? 

Mong Mong (11:49 PM): …You could’ve called me. 

Mong Mong (11:51 PM): I know we argued but—

The last message trailed off. You stared at the screen, biting your lip. Guilt gnawed at you as you scrolled through his words again. 

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to call him. You just… You didn’t want to burden him after your disagreement. And part of you had assumed he wouldn’t have wanted to hear from you anyway.

Clearly, you’d assumed wrong.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you tapped on his contact and hit call. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice groggy with sleep.

“I am,” you answered softly. “I saw your messages.”

There was a brief pause. “Yeah. I figured you did.”

You swallowed, gripping your phone tighter. “I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

Another pause. “Why didn’t you?”

You sighed, closing your eyes. “I… I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me after the argument. And I didn’t want to make things worse.”

A soft exhale came through the speaker, and when Seungmin spoke again, his voice had lost some of its sleepiness. “Did you really think I wouldn’t care? Even if we fought, I would’ve come to get you. I wanted to.”

Your heart squeezed at his words. “I know,” you murmured. “I just— It was stupid. I called Minho.”

Seungmin made a sound, something between a scoff and a chuckle. “Of course you did.”

You shook your head, though he couldn’t see it. “The one time he actually supports this relationship – driving me to you without even asking – he picks the worst timing.”

Seungmin was silent for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was different. “Wait. You were on your way to me?”

You bit my lip. “Yeah.”

“But… you obviously didn’t come over.” Another silence. But this time, it felt heavier.

He sounded genuinely surprised, and you could tell his mind was working through the implications. Something in his stomach tightened uncomfortably, immediately thinking the argument had cut deeper for you than he originally believed.

“It wasn’t about that,” you reassured him quickly. “I just… didn’t feel like seeing anyone. I just wanted to go home.”

“I get that,” Seungmin said, and for the first time since you answered the call, his voice held nothing but sincerity. “But next time, don’t assume I don’t want to be there for you, okay?”

Your chest ached in the best way. “Okay.”

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, the tension from last night slowly dissipating. Then, after a moment, Seungmin spoke again.

“We still need to talk, you know. About the fight.”

Your heart stilled for a moment before you nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I know.”

“Not now,” he said, almost as if he was reassuring himself as well as you. “But soon.”

You exhaled softly. “Yeah. Soon.”

“So… did you talk to Minho about it?”

You hesitated. “No. Maybe he suspects something but I didn't tell him.”

Seungmin sighed. “Should I be prepared for something at practice? He’s gonna beat me up if he finds out.”

You bit your lip, considering. “I don’t think he’ll bring it up unless he’s sure. He’ll get over it.”

Seungmin groaned. “Great. Just what I need.”

You chuckled softly, amusement lighting up the mood. A comfortable silence filled the air as the weight of the conversation eased.

Then he muttered, almost like an afterthought, “I just… I don’t want to disappoint him either.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Minho?”

He let out a quiet, almost sheepish sigh. “Yeah. I know he acts like I annoy him, but… I think he actually kind of— I don’t know. Approves of me? Or at least tolerates me as your boyfriend. If he found out we fought and thought I messed it up, he’d never let me live it down.”

A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Oh, so that’s why you’re worried.”

“Shut up,” he grumbled. “I just don’t need him looking at me like I kicked his cat or something.”

You laughed. “You’ll survive.”

“I better.” Seungmin huffed a laugh. 

-----

The rhythmic echo of sneakers against the polished floor filled the practice room as Seungmin wiped the sweat from his forehead, rolling his shoulders to shake off the fatigue. Practice had been tough, but at least it gave him something to focus on. He took a long sip from his water bottle, letting the cool liquid soothe his throat.

Then, just as he was starting to catch his breath, Lee Know sauntered over with an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Guess who I saved yesterday," he drawled, tossing a towel over his shoulder.

Seungmin didn’t take the bait. He casually screwed the cap back onto his bottle and gave a nonchalant shrug. "I don't know. A stray cat?"

Lee Know smirked, undeterred. "You could say that – It was your dear, helpless girlfriend."

Seungmin finally turned his head, meeting Lee Know’s gaze with a carefully neutral expression. "Oh? Is that so?" he said, voice even. 

Lee Know let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, well, pouring rain, drenched hoodie, shivering at a bus stop… It was a whole dramatic scene. They must’ve really needed help. Funny how their first instinct was to call me instead of you."

Seungmin exhaled through his nose, resisting the urge to react. He knew Lee Know was testing him, poking for a reaction. Instead, he leaned back against the wall, stretching out his legs as if completely at ease.

"Makes sense," he said smoothly. "You do have a car, after all."

Lee Know squinted at him. "That’s all you have to say?"

Seungmin lifted a brow. "What, did you want me to throw a fit?”

"A little jealousy would be nice," Lee Know mused, crossing his arms. "or do you not care whether she’s safe?"

Seungmin let out a breath of laughter. "Sorry to disappoint. But I already talked to her about it. We’re fine."

Lee Know clicked his tongue. "Boring. Can’t even get some kind of reaction out of you these days."

"And I was hoping practice would be over by now, yet here we are," Seungmin quipped, pushing off the wall and heading back towards the center of the room as the others began trickling in.

Lee Know watched him go, tilting his head slightly before calling after him, "You know, if she ever needs saving again, I’ll be ready."

Seungmin glanced back over his shoulder, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Good. That means I don’t have to worry."

Lee Know blinked, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected response. Then he shook his head, mumbling something about ‘not being your fucking chauffeur’.

Just as Seungmin turned away, though, Lee Know’s voice came – quieter this time, almost too casual.

"You two are good, right?"

Seungmin paused for half a second before glancing back. Lee Know wasn’t looking at him anymore, already grabbing his water bottle and stretching like it was just an afterthought.

A small smile tugged at Seungmin’s lips. "Yeah. We’re good."

Lee Know didn’t say anything else, just gave an acknowledging hum before walking past him.

pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | pt.5 | masterlist

[queenariesofnarnia]

never too much {j.t.}

gif not mine!

wc: 504

🩵🩵🩵🩵

Many people would say that the honeymoon phase of a relationship ends within six months to two years. However this never really applied to your relationship with Joaquin, and it was probably because you were with him when he joined the Air Force and during the Blip. Everyday felt like a new experience together, you tried figuring out was there anyway you could love him more than you already do. Of course each day wasn’t perfect, but no relationship is.

Today, while he’s out with Sam you decided to cook him a big home-cooked meal just because you felt like he deserved it. You started the day with tidying up the house just to keep yourself on top of it. You shuffled your playlist as you prepared everything for dinner, you made steak, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. You pulled a bottle of cabernet sauvignon from your wine rack placing it in the fridge an hour before he arrived home. Placing dinner in the oven on a low temperature as you go take a shower and getting dressed making yourself feel great to your standards.

When you finished getting ready your playlist played ‘Never Too Much’ by Luther Vandross. You sang along softly as you set the table for dinner, you were so into the song you didn’t hear the door opening. Joaquin almost called out to you until he heard you singing in the kitchen, he quietly closed the front door, he walked over leaning on the doorway of the kitchen admiring you as you sang softly. The savory smell of dinner and the soft scent of you perfume filled the house and he loved it.

“Oh, my love. A thousand kisses from you is never too much, I just don’t wanna stop. Oh, my love a million days in your arms is never too much” you sang the chorus finally looking up meeting the eyes and the charming smile of your love. “Hi my love” your smile as bright as ever as you greet him. He walked over pulling you into a hug kissing your forehead.

“Cariño you did all this for me?” he asked pulling away to look at you.

“I felt like you deserve it so sit” you kiss his cheek lightly pushing him towards the table as you turn to grab the plates of food. some wine glasses, and to pause your playlist. You pull the wine out the fridge pouring his glass first.

“Did I do something to deserve it?” he asked taking a bit of the steak.

“You don’t have to do anything to deserve it my love” you smile before taking a bite of your food.

“So I got dinner and a little show, I feel lucky” he smiled.

“There’s dessert when you finish” you tell him.

“What’s for dessert?” he asked his sweet tooth getting the best of him.

“Me” you say winking as you sip your wine. Let’s just say Joaquin was ready to scarf down the rest of his dinner at your answer.

[sexlapis]

Ho! I loooooooveeee your actor toji fics! Is it possible to get added to the taglist? Thank you ~

Also an idea: a bts scene of reader getting sick on set(perhaps even collapsing) due to fatigue and toji taking care of them- I feel like that'd be such a hit ship moment irl :D

thank you for liking my fics <3 you can be added to the tag list 🩵.

and omg yeah i love that idea of reader overworking themselves and toji looking after them :’). and yeah i didn’t make it a behind the scenes clip i made a short fic abt it bc i do not know when to stop.. like give me an idea and i will fly away w it like a bird liek..i don’t even think this is what you asked for srsly…i hope you don’t mind (but i’ll add it to my tojiyn headcanons hehe)

cw: actor toji x actress reader, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing, petnames (‘kid’, ik people don’t like this one but i think it’s so sweet & so toji :)), collapsing, mentions of skipping meals/not eating, poor sleeping habits, feelings of loneliness & inadequacy, crying, toji taking care of reader, i made this way more angsty than you asked sorry :(

wc: 2k+

you dragged yourself through the doors of the studio, immediately bombarded by directors, stylists, scrip writers and other cast members on your way to the dressing room, only fuelling your fatigue and stress.

sleep was a foreign concept at this point. five hours at most. so were healthy, filling meals - the last time you ate was yesterday at noon, and for breakfast today all you had was a cup of coffee, not helping your nervous, exhausted state.

admittedly, you were not doing very well. you felt that your acting was subpar and you felt lonely and isolated on set. while everyone went with their friends for a break or lunch, you sat by yourself in your dressing room, your only company being the silence.

sure, toji was also on set too, but he played a very minor role, so he wasn’t always there. and even when he was sometimes, he would hang out with the other crew members, which wasn’t a problem of course, but it did sting a little when he chose them over you.

you just felt so lonely, anxious and quite frankly upset at yourself and the circumstances you find yourself in.

there are a few knocks at your dressing room door and you weakly tell them to come in.

toji peeks is head in. “hey, kid. we start in five..” he takes a look at your weary face, dark eye bags prominent even through the makeup the stylists caked on and the frown on your lips and just knows something is wrong.

“are you ‘right?” he asks quietly, like you’re a deer who’s about to run away at the slightest of sounds.

“yes, i’m fine.” you lie, a voice in the back of your mind wishing he’d just ignore you like everyone else on this damn set does.

“‘you sure? ‘cause you don’t look-”

“i said im fine! just get out.” you snap, heart beating and breathing heavily at your own outburst.

fuck. you didn’t mean to say that.

but toji doesn’t look offended. he just nods and walks away footsteps fading as you put your head in your hands and sob.

so there you are, acting in front of the camera with your colleague in a scene where toji appears in too and you just seem off. everyone assumes it’s just not your day today and they’re not exactly wrong. you lines were slightly forced, tired and you were jittery and clearly apprehensive, like you didn’t even want to be here.

“cut!” the director calls out, more than annoyed with your behaviour. it was the sixth take and you’re really trying to make it believable, but it’s futile.

“this is the sixth take _____. this is ridiculous. get your act together. let’s take five.”

you look down at your shoes, face hot and chest thudding with embarrassment due to the director calling you out in front of everybody. tears well up in your eyes and you sigh, blinking them away as everyone starts talking again, walking away leaving you standing there like an idiot.

it all becomes too much for you. your empty stomach, oncoming headache, exhausted body, dry mouth, furrowed eyebrows, sweaty palms-

you let your script fall out of your hand as you stumble off the green screen, trying to get to your room before a hand is grabbing your arm. you turn around and it’s toji again.

“hey..” he leans down slightly to your height, scanning you over once. “you don’t look so good, _____-”

you shrug him off, vision becoming blurred with black static and limbs heavy and shaky. “i-i jus’ need to go. to my..uhm-” you stop, rubbing a hand down your face harshly. “i just-”

and then there is black.

౨ৎ

you come to and realise that you are laying on your dressing room couch, staring up at the ceiling. reaching up, you feel a wet, cool cloth on your head. you take it off. still fuzzy and body essentially lethargic, you try to sit up.

“hey, hey, hey.” toji whispers.

oh, toji’s here.

“take it easy.” he helps you sit up on the arm of the couch. he hands you a bottle of water and you drink it like a god.

“wait, what happened?” you ask, still confused and disoriented.

“you fuckin’ fainted that’s what,” he states bluntly. “scared the fuckin’ dogshit outta me.”

“oh.”

toji sits beside you on a chair, looking at you closely. you look down.

“the med team checked you out.” he tells you. “said you fainted, collapsed-whatever the fuck. ‘cos of stress and exhaustion. they even checked your blood sugar and said it was low as fuck.” he pauses. “not dangerously low,” he adds at the sight of your worried expression, “but.. low enough.”

you sigh, falling back on the couch. you think back to how the director shouted at you, how annoyed he was, and how humiliated you felt. tears start to form again and you cover your face with your hands, not wanting to cry in front of toji. you felt like you’ve had enough embarrassment for today.

toji leans forward. “what’s happening with you?”

the way he said it, so soft and concerned, makes the tears fall down and cause sobs to escape your mouth, hiccuped breaths falling from your mouth.

“hey, hey, hey..” toji coos. he reaches to you and makes you sit up again so he can take you into his arms. you let him, sobbing into his shoulder and sucking up all the comfort he gives you. toji’s big hand strokes your hair and the other caresses your back softly.

“shh, sh, sh…” he calms you down a little, you sobs turning into sniffles. he leans back and gives you space but his hands stay planted on your back. “tell toji what’s wrong.”

you hum sadly, looking down and gulping. “i’m..i’m tired. i wanna sleep..”

toji waits for you to continue. he can see you want to say more so he doesn’t hurry you along, he just rubs your back and nods to let you know you’re listening.

“i..” you take a breath, “i dunno what to do..i can’t do this fucking role.. i’m fucking tired half the fucking day and my so called colleagues don’t even like me!” you try to calm yourself down, taking another shaky breath. “and i just feel..lonely all the time..” you cry out the last few words, feeling another sob session coming up and toji pulls you close, letting you ruin his shirt with your tears as he rocks you back and forth in his arms.

“it’s okay, it’s okay..” he coos, resting his face in your hair.

you both stay like that for a few moments, you weeps dying down before toji talks.

“you can play this part, _____. ‘you have any idea how good your are, huh? you can act circles around half ‘these guys.”

you scoff, pulling your lips together. “i dunno about that..”

“‘m serious. _____, you can act, okay? ‘wouldn’t have made it this far if you couldn’t.”

“yeah but..this one’s hard..” you sigh, voice cracking but toji doesn’t let you start again.

“yeah, acting’s hard. but i can help you,” toji cups your wet face with his hands, wiping the tear streaks that paint you face, “we can all help you. the crew, your friends, that bitchass director. i’ll put a gun to everyone’s head to make them fuckin’ help you with this.”

you giggle at his seriousness and he huffs, relieved that you’re relaxing a little.

“they don’t hate you, y’know. everybody on set. the cast. they just think you’re a little shy and quiet. they don’t hate you, okay?” toji reassures you. you nod absentmindedly and he shakes your head from side to side to make you pay attention, making you smile, eyes crinkling even though they’re still tear stricken. “there she is..who the fuck could hate you, huh?”

“ugh, toji.” you roll your eyes, sniffling and rubbing your face. you pull away from him. “ugh..i just want my bed right now.”

“yeah..i know it ain’t my place but told the director that you’re taking a few days off. you need a break, kid.”

you didn’t even argue with him. you couldn’t.

“yeah, i do.” you agree.

suddenly, a loud rumble from your stomach erupts, it was like an earthquake.

toji laughs. “someone’s hungry.”

you groan. “‘m starving. haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“we’re getting you something to eat.” he states, leaving no room for objections.

toji stands, holding his hand out for you to take. you do, his large, calloused hand dwarfing yours as he helps you stand up. “can you walk?”

“i will if there’s food involved.”

“that’s good.” toji chuckles, “how’s takeout sound?”

a/n: had to write a whole fic abt this i apologise 🥸 will add the tag list later i just keep forgetting the users </3

[signanothername]

it might be an awkward question but-

HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO DRAW SO MUCH?? how do you get so many beautiful ideas? how do you keep yourself motivated? tell me your secret I will sell you my soul

🩵 🫴 take it.

Why thank you 🫳🩵

Ah the question ever

Truthful and simple answer is that there’s no secret

This might seem contradictory considering how much I post, but I genuinely am not as motivated or as inspired as I seem to be

I struggle a lot with ideas and motivation and that is a problem I have on a daily basis that’s been happening for years (I have SO many wips that I never shared)

It’s not about the struggle, it’s about how I curated my art to that struggle

I’m at a constant threat to experience burnout (certified chronic pain and chronic fatigue haver), so to combat that, I take measures to make sure I don’t burn myself out and actually reserve the very little energy I have to continue doing artworks/comics

To give you a specific example, if you notice with my comics, they’re always sketchy and are never colored, that’s not because I don’t want to make colored comics, but because of knowledge from previous experiences that if I actually forced myself to make colored comics, I’d immediately plunge to burnout and would probably not be able to draw for a few weeks after because of it (in fact the last time I made a colored comic was here, which is a rare occasion even then btw, and that comic caused me to experience a near burnout)

Which was extremely frustrating to me at some point might I add, because before 2021, I had no problem making so many colored comics and artworks at a short span of time, I actually had motivation before (something that is lost to me now), so you can imagine how genuinely frustrating it is, it even made me feel like I’m not a “real” artist

(The concept of what is considered a “real artist” is bullshit btw, someone who draws stickmen everyday is as much of a real artist as someone who makes diverse fully colored artworks with backgrounds and everything, as long as you use your creativity and turn it to something meaningful, you’re already a real artist, regardless of skill or the extent of which you are able to conceive with your art)

That being said, it’s all about finding your own footing and workflow, what works best for you? What doesn’t?

Some things that you’d love for them to work (in my case making colored comics) might not work in reality, life is disappointing like that, so it’s also about acceptance

Acceptance of yourself as you are, maybe it’s not what you truly strive for, maybe you wish you could do more, but sometimes taking a step back and looking into yourself to see if you can actually achieve what you want with the resources you have could be life saving

So when it comes to motivation? Find your workflow, what are the things that you know could make you lose your motivation? On the other hand, what are the things that preserve your motivation?

Not only that, but time management is also a contributing factor

Of course, my own way to preserve my motivation/energy is as follows:

1- never force myself to finish artworks/comics if I feel like I can’t (even if I really really want to), I save them up for later when my motivation for them kicks back in

2-let perfectionism go, if I keep fretting over whether every line in an artwork looks good I’ll never accomplish anything but destroy my mental health (certified perfectionist speaking btw)

3-comics stay as sketches, as much as I want to make beautifully colored comics, I know this will only contribute to my burnout, so keeping it real with myself and what I can accomplish with my own resources (energy, time, health, etc) is important

4-making multiple sketches in a day then choosing what fancies my brain that day, or getting back to older sketches I already made before (sometimes months before) to see if my brain has the itch to work on any of them, by doing that, then I’m giving myself actual diversity in choices to choose from, which helps me feel like I don’t have to be forced to work on anything new, or something that I don’t wanna work on

For clarification, I’m talking actual sketches, not cleaned up ones, if you make clean sketches you won’t be able to make multiple ones in the same day

Here’s an example of what I mean by sketches

5-stop beating myself up over things I can’t control, if I keep being harsh on myself over the fact I couldn’t finish an artwork or the fact I’m not satisfied with it, it’ll only contribute to make me feel bad about myself and that would only contribute to me losing even more motivation which contributes to beating myself up and so the self torture cycle goes on, myself deserves to be pat on the back gently and be told “it’s ok, you’ll get there in time”

6-teach myself that it’s ok to lose motivation, there are times in which I do not open my art app for weeks, instead of hating myself for it, I tell myself “you need time, you’re tired and you need the break”, and it’s true, if you lost motivation, it’s most likely due to something else contributing to it

So i just ask myself what’s up, sometimes, I’m overworked in other life aspects, other times I’m in too much pain, so instead of forcing myself through my demotivation, I take care of these factors demotivating me so I’d feel comfortable enough to be able to work on artworks again

If I couldn’t identify a factor contributing to my loss of motivation, then I take it as my own brain telling me that it needs the break, it needs the dopamine if doing something different and I do that, whether by watching my favorite shows, playing my favorite games, trying a different hobby like writing or reading, etc

7- work on my own time, sometimes I do finish artworks quickly, and I do have the capacity to do so, but I’ve noticed that my loss of motivation became less of an issue when I gave myself the actual time to work on artworks, sometimes, a simple artwork that I could finish in 20 minutes takes me weeks to finish, not because I can’t finish it earlier, but because I intentionally worked slowly on it as I’m working on other artworks just as slow, that way, I don’t overwhelm myself and I’m making progress on multiple artworks/comics at the same time, and seeing such progress gives me even more motivation

Cough, anyway, got lost in talking about motivation ghcchch

As for your other question about how I get my ideas, it’s usually something I saw that inspired me, whether an artwork, something irl, etc

Or even sometimes, my own artworks inspire ideas for comics, so I’d draw something, then ask myself (asking yourself questions is such a great helper when it comes to coming up with ideas) why is the character doing this? How did they get there? Etc

That helps me come up with answers which are then answered via comics or multiple different artworks

For example, this comic, what inspired it was me asking myself one simple question, “what would happen if Murder actually asked Nightmare for a visit home for once, instead of running away like he always does?”, and that immediately got me to work on the comic

Of course, it doesn’t mean I always am on the ready for an idea, in fact, a lot of the time my mind is blank, nothing up there to help me, which is why I turn to mindlessly sketching sometimes

I just open a canvas and start sketching, what? I don’t know, I’m just gonna sketch something, could be a character, environment, scribbles, meaningless lines etc, it’s my iwn version of a warm up, and it helps a lot with making my brain get into the zone

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head

Enjoy a look into my brain chhcchch

[actually-safer-to-kiss]

What about an angst to fluff where reader and Spencer aren’t exactly dating but they had a date planed and Spencer cancelled cause he had a case. Reader goes to a bar with her friends and sees Spencer walking in with JJ or someone undercover but reader thinks he blew her off for another date…

So Two FBI Agents Walk Into a Bar...

Summary: Reader confronts Spencer after finding him at a bar with another woman.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slight angst-to-fluff

Word count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for submitting, and thank you thank you for your patience 🩵

The evening was supposed to be perfect. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the quiet street as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the city. The air was thick with anticipation as you carefully selected your outfit for the night. You had a date planned with Spencer, the enigmatic and brilliant man you’d been getting to know over the past few months. You weren’t officially dating, but the chemistry between you two was undeniable, and this was meant to be a significant step forward.

But life had a way of throwing curveballs. Just hours before your scheduled meet-up, Spencer called to cancel. Granted, you could hear the frustration and exhaustion (because when is he not working) over the phone, the pang of disappointment hitting your core was still hard to ignore. There was an urgent case that apparently demanded his attention, so he had to be there. You hated to understand the demands but simply agreed to postpone your plans and hung up with a sigh.

Instead of moping for the rest of the evening, your friends convinced you to join them at a nearby bar. They promised laughter, good company, and a distraction from the pain that often came with new men in your life. Reluctantly, you agreed and soon found yourself amidst the lively chatter of the bar, a drink clinging to your hand throughout the evening

As the sun began disappearing and evening blended into night, your friends’ laughter became infectious, and you began to relax. You were sharing stories, trading jokes, and momentarily forgetting about the original plans with Spencer. But it was as if the universe heard you because a sudden hush fell over your table as the group’s attention was drawn toward the entrance.

There, walking in, was Spencer. And a woman. A woman who was indeed not you. A leggy blond in a little black dress that, of course (of-fucking-course), looked fantastic on her.

Your heart sank at the sight. Spencer Reid had cancelled your date only to go out with someone else. The initial shock turned into a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, anger, and a sense of betrayal. A full-course meal of confusing feelings right in front of you as you still couldn’t believe your eyes.

Your friends, however, watched in real time as the feelings played out on your face. They exchanged knowing glances as the turmoil only set in further in front of them. And it’s before they have a chance to react that you’ve stormed over to them. Your voice wavered, a mix of anger and hurt trading places as you said, “Seriously, Spencer? You cancelled on me for someone else?” You gestured toward the woman, who was now looking up at you. She had gorgeous blue eyes, and it didn’t help your self-esteem in the slightest. “Does she know you did this? I doubt it.”

Spencer’s own eyes widened at the surprise, and he jumped to his feet. The urgency and frustration (of getting caught, clearly) were just as evident on his face. “Y/N, wait.” He says. “You have it all wrong here.”

You weren’t ready to listen, though. The feelings festering in your body had reached their boiling point, and you were determined to let Spencer feel the burn. “Save it! I can’t believe you would do this to me. I thought we had…” Tears started welling up the moment you felt yourself on a roll, as if tonight couldn’t be more embarrassing. “I thought you were different.”

Spencer took hold of your arm. His grip was firm but not forceful, pulling you into a quieter, more secluded corner of the bar (where your friends could still see you as their heads bobbed from the table like pigeons). “Okay, okay,” Spencer began, whether to you or himself; you couldn’t tell. “Listen, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. That woman, her name is J.J. She’s a co-worker. She’s married, happily married, and we’re working undercover on a case. I didn’t blow you off for a date.”

And it was then; your anger had no choice but to waver. As his words sank in, confusion replaced the initial fury. “Undercover? A case? You mean the case is happening now?”

Spencer nodded, rapidly, like he was on a sugar high. “Yes! Look!" He even messed with the collar on his cardigan, revealing the tiny microphone clipped to it. It blended in with its navy color. “I know it looks bad. I do. But I promise, there’s nothing between me and J.J. It’s all part of the investigation.”

You looked Spencer in the eyes; they were sad and starting to gloss. “So, your people, the others in on the investigation... they can hear you right now?”

Spencer’s lips thinned out. “Yeah.”

“Have they said anything?”

“Morgan’s too busy laughing. I can’t hear anything else.”

The anger began melting away, replaced by a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You looked down, the foolishness of jumping to conclusions finally catching up to you. The scene you made. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

Spencer clipped the mic back into place and gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand why you were upset. But just know I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

You met his gaze, the tension between you easing. “I should have trusted you.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly as he reached out to cup your cheek. His hand is cold but soft. “So, can we start over?”

You nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, let’s start over.”

Spencer nodded. Plans were already made. Spencer was at work. Before heading back to J.J., Spencer made the gentlemanly choice to walk you back to your group of friends. Before he had a chance to introduce himself and depart gracefully for the night, he jerked down to his mic. “I heard that, Morgan. Hey, at least I have a girlfriend.”

You, however, pretended not to hear. You trust he’ll say it again.

[nahoney22]

Congrats on the 4500 followers, Honey 🥳

Can I request a Fives x Fem!Reader fic with fluff prompts #7 and #22? With a, they're in an established relationship, but they're not living together yet, kind of vibe?

Please and thank you 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Just for Tonight 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Fives X Female!Reader

word count: 827 words

prompts:

• “You don't have to leave just yet ... you could stay the night if you wanted to?”

• “You’re comfy.”

When Fives comes to visit, the two of you imagine what life after the war would be like together.

warnings: Safe for Work, Fluff, Established Relationship, Cuddling, Kisses, Female Reader, Discussions about life after the war, talks of the future. Very light angst if you squint.

Authors note: sorry for the wait @the-bad-batch-baroness, enjoy 🩵

Tonight, the usual quiet of your apartment was interrupted by the sizzling sounds and savory smells wafting from your tiny kitchen.

You leaned against the doorway, watching in quiet amusement as Fives, your better half of the last year, moved about with surprising ease in the unfamiliar space of your kitchen. He glanced over his shoulder with a playful smirk. “Stop staring, you’re making me nervous.”

You giggle, crossing your arms. “You know, I didn’t expect you to surprise me by cooking?”

“I figured I’d show off my skills. You deserve a break from takeout.” He teased, flipping something in the pan with a bit more flair than necessary.

The meal was simple, nothing too fancy which was just how you liked it. But the effort he put into it, the way he made himself at home in your space, made your heart swell. As he finishes up, you set the table and pretend not to notice how he stole glances at you every now and then.

Once the food was ready, he set down two plates and pulled out a chair for you with an exaggerated bow. “Dinner is served, milady,” he said with a wink, his charm in full force.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you sat down. “You really didn’t have to do all this, Fives.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, sitting across from you. “I don’t get to see you nearly as much as I’d like. Figured I’d make tonight special.”

The meal was delicious. You never realised he had the skill for it and you wouldn’t mind him coming over and cooking for you again. Conversation flowed easily as always, from light banter to deeper musings about what life might look like after the war. And as the evening stretched on, the familiar ache of knowing he’d have to leave soon crept into your thoughts.

When the plates were cleared and the kitchen tidied, the two of you found yourselves on the couch, with Fives stretched out beside you, his head resting lazily in your lap. You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair, savouring the rare moment of peace. He sighed contentedly, eyes half-lidded with the kind of serenity that seemed so rare in his life these days. “You look like you’re going to fall to sleep any second,” you hum.

“You’re comfy,” he mumbled with a sleepy grin, his voice rough from fatigue but tinged with a warmth.

You couldn’t help but smile. Moments like these were often stolen from the chaos of the Clone war. And so, they were more precious to you than anything. You glance at the clock on your wall, seeing the minutes that follow into hours tick by. Your chest tightened knowing he will soon have to leave and it seemed he knew it too as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“You don’t have to leave just yet,” you offer softly, “You could stay the night if you wanted to.”

Fives’ eyes search yours as if weighing the suggestion carefully. The war had taught him to stay alert, to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice, but in your apartment, he could let his guard down—if only for a little while. “You sure?” he asked, though there was a hint of something playful in his tone, like he was testing how much you really wanted him there.

“Of course I’m sure,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead. “Besides, it’s nice having you here.”

He shifted slightly, moving so that he was propped up on one elbow, his free hand tracing small circles on your knee. “You know, when all this is over,” he said, his voice dropping to something more serious, more vulnerable, “we won’t have to sneak around like this anymore. We’ll get our own place—somewhere quiet. Just us.”

The promise hung in the air between you, a fragile hope for a future that was anything but certain. But the way he said it, with so much conviction, made you want to believe in it, too. You could picture it: a small home, somewhere far from here, where you wouldn’t have to keep your time together a secret, where he wouldn’t have to leave before dawn broke.

“I’d like that.”

Fives’ gaze softened as he leaned in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. “It’s a promise,” he murmured, sealing it.

You lay down, Fives coming to spoon behind you, both of you too stuffed and tired to move to the bed. After all, you just wanted to savour the warmth and comfort he brought with him. “Stay,” you said again, this time with more confidence as you locked your hands over his that rested on your stomach. “Just for tonight.”

“Alright,” he agreed, pulling you closer, the tension melting from his body. “For tonight.”

Hopefully, this ‘just for tonight’ will turn into an everyday reality. One day.

🌊 Masterlist is Pinned 🌊

Tags: @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 1 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Those Summer Nights, When I Look in Your Eyes

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France) Warnings: Sexual Situations; Vague Smut

Summary: Daryl's childhood had lacked so much and at the beginning of the turn, he had never known love beyond Merle's version of it. Now, he had it all and he would never let them wonder how much he cherished them.

A/N: For @louifaith, I hope this is close to what you imagined for our archer. 🩵 - Also, I have Daryl calling reader "pip" because someone suggested him nicknaming her "pipsqueak" in another story and it has just stuck with me. I was as vague as possible about reader’s age but let me be clear - she is above 18. I don’t write for huge age gaps. I don’t judge those that do and I do read them. I just do not write them but I have no control over where your mind takes you. Anyway, the song he hums is attached. ;)

Life was good. 

For thirteen years, there had never been a point in time where Daryl had felt like he could say that and genuinely believe it. For an entire year, the Commonwealth had thrived. Not a single threat. The walls held. The governing unit was fair and compassionate. It really was like the old world. 

But not for Daryl. 

In the old world, he had been a drifter. A useless drifter walking in the shadow of his brother. No job, no friends, no purpose. And he had, at that time, liked it that way. 

Not anymore. 

Because now he had a job. He had friends. He had a family. He had a purpose. And he had everything he had lacked growing up. He had love, and not just Merle’s variation of it.

Carol had taken over Lance’s position when Ezekiel and Mercer had stepped up to govern. She had pulled Daryl aside and asked him if he wanted to stay in their reformed force, giving him the choice. His decision was to promptly decline. So they put their heads together to come up with something. 

Daryl possessed many skills, most of them learned by doing throughout the years. He had one condition that he would not negotiate on, however. 

Daryl’s time outside the walls was over. 

He agreed to train hunters to take his place and conceded to three weeks on the road with volunteers that he left up to Carol’s choosing. There was more than enough trust between them for him to be comfortable with who she would deem worthy to provide for the community. 

Then he was given the job of overseeing construction and structural upkeep, equipment maintenance, and of course, a seat in the governmental advisory council. He was nothing if not adaptable and took to his position quickly, finding that he liked it. He was respected and his suggestions for the good of the community were heard and considered. 

If he chose to hunt or ride, it would be for leisure but he’d hardly needed it in the past year. Domestic life had tamed the inner need to hide or escape that had been ingrained throughout the years even before the turn. 

Years ago, you had tumbled into his life. A hot mess that he had spent many a day battling the urge to absolutely throttle. You had a stubborn streak a mile wide that made his own nothing more than a small trail. He absolutely couldn’t stand you. 

Funny thing, time. 

Now you wore his ring and proudly carried his last name. You had wanted the ceremony, even if his proposal was lackluster. He had been seeking you out after the end of the Whisperers. 

“Where’s Y/N?” At first no one answered. He barely parted his lips, intent on asking again with a little more well placed ardor when a woman he recognized as a former Hilltop resident spoke up.  “I saw your wife! She’s over with the children!” He muttered his thanks and took a single step before you were finding him.  “Daryl!” Your body collided with his, knocking the air from his lungs. His heartbeat lowered regardless, feeling you there in his arms, alive and breathing and whole. “I couldn’t see you in the herd. I was about to come find you but Jude, she made me promise to stay.” “M’here. An’ they’re gone” He tightened his arms around you and rested his cheek on the crown of your head.  “So I’m your wife now, huh?” He felt the shift of your facial muscles against his chest, knew you were smiling.  “What of it?” He grunted. “Ya wanna be?” He felt his heart skip a few beats when you lifted your head to smile at him, beaming and beautiful.  “Of course, I do. Might as well be at this point. We sound like an old married couple.” Daryl snorted and then shrugged. “Then I guess we are.” “That simple?” “That simple.” When you grinned, he knew you would never let it be that simple. 

You got your wedding, simple and intimate, with only the few remaining people that were closest to the two of you. When Gabriel said the words, you got your ring, too. Oh, the hell and herds Daryl had gone through to get them. Matching bands, camelot black titanium. Crafted to withstand the way the world was. 

He was twisting the ring round and round as he walked home, tired from a full day’s work and more than ready for the weekend with his family: you, Jude, RJ, and his little River. His boy was nearly two years old, the spitting image of Daryl with a heaping dose of your attitude. 

You were younger than Daryl, still at an age where pregnancy and giving birth was not considered risky beyond the state the world was in and the lack of some resources. It was horrifying yet the best news he’d ever heard in his self-proclaimed useless life.

River Merle came along right in the midst of the unease in the Commonwealth. When they had taken you and River along with Jude and RJ, it had required all the power Carol possessed to stop Daryl from losing his goddamn mind. He was prepared to rip out entrails with his bare hands and use them to strangle each and every trooper that stood between him and his wife and kids. It was not a good time to support Pamela. 

It all worked out in the end when, bruised but alive, the people took back the Commonwealth.

And now, here he was. A husband. A father. A boss. A survivor. 

Life. Was. Good.

“Ya home, Pip?” The words habitually rolled off his tongue the moment he opened the door and stepped inside. Jude and RJ were watching a movie, the elder looking over with a hey, Uncle Daryl before turning right back to the television. It was the weekend. No reason to bug them about homework. 

“Where else would we be?” You called from the kitchen. Daryl unlaced his boots, was in the middle of pulling off the second one when you came out with River on your hip. “Someone’s cranky today.” 

“I ain’t cranky.”

“I’m not talking about you but assuming I was says a lot.” You smiled softly, passing off the baby while simultaneously stealing a kiss. “Hi.” 

“Hey.” He nearly melted, probably would have if you weren’t situating a small human right against his chest.

“Get a room.” Judith was rolling her eyes when Daryl shot her a harmless look. 

River’s little arms went straight around his father’s neck, his little hiccups and sniffles muffled against Dary’s shirt. “S’wrong, lil’ man. Mama houndin’ ya over veggies like she does me an’ RJ?” River pulled back, rubbing his left eye with a chubby fist, looking at Daryl with a scowl that he knew very well adorned his own face more often than not. Even being so content with his life, he couldn’t seem to rid himself of what you called his resting bitch face.

“Daddy.” Was all the boy said before burying his face back into Daryl’s shirt.

“He had a nap?” Daryl was jostling his son as little as possible while ridding himself of his precious vest, tossing it over the back of ‘his’ chair at the dining table. His large hand covered a wide expanse of the small boy’s back when he rubbed soothing little circles, following you into the kitchen. You shook your head and took the lid off the pot on the stove. The scent of meat and herbs wafted toward Daryl and his mouth watered, but first thing was first.

“He wouldn’t go down. I think it’s a daddy day.” You smiled at the sauce but it wasn’t meant for the pasta topping at all. Daddy days were Daryl’s favorite. River wanted absolutely no one but him. The baby would fuss during meals, refuse to nap, and absolutely forget about bath and bedtime unless Daryl was there.

“I got ‘im then. See if I can get ‘im down for a bit.” Daryl was ducking and angling his head to catch River’s attention, finally earning a shy smile when blue met blue and the archer scrunched his nose and stuck out his tongue. Pressing a kiss into the mess of wavy hair, he noticed you standing with your back against the countertop, a certain type of smile on your face.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just sexy.”

“Pfft, stop.”

“We are so playing chess tonight.”

Daryl arched a brow. “Yeah?” 

You nodded, your smile morphing into something else entirely; something sinful. “Oh, yeah.”

Dinner done, older kids in their rooms after teeth brushing and goodnight hugs, Daryl sat in the nursery with a sleepy River resting his head on his father’s shoulder while the chair gently rocked. The baby’s hair was only the least bit damp but he smelled of the lavender lotion that you always seemed to have near the changing table, instructing Daryl to use it after baths and before bed because it was calming.

Bathed and in a fresh diaper and pajamas, mini-Daryl was beginning to drift off while his father simply rubbed his back or kissed his cheek or even held a little hand just to count the fingers over and over. Soon enough there would be potty training and pre-school—Carol had said that was still a thing in the world now and yes, they had one in the Commonwealth—so for now, Daryl just wanted to soak it all up, take it all in.

River would likely be the only baby the two of you would have, so not a single second was being wasted or taken for granted. You kept a daily journal of simple things that some might find trivial but Daryl knew he’d be reading that journal often enough to wear the ink right off the pages. Sometimes, he missed things because of work, but in the end, that’s what happened when you were a parent, he supposed. His old man didn’t care about milestones or daddy days, and his mama wasn’t around for bath time or boo-boo kisses. River would have it all. And as long as they were his to care for, so would Judith and RJ. In fact, since the baby had Daryl, you were currently reading a story to Rick and Michonne’s son before bed.

Man, if Rick could see Daryl now. Would his brother even recognize him? God, would his brother even recognize him? He let his mind drift for a moment to Rick and Merle, just long enough to keep them close and then he was back to River, pressing a kiss to a chubby cheek. 

You would always rock and sing to the little one but he didn’t need that from Daryl. There was just something about their bond that didn’t require words and hardly even movement. It had been that way since the moment you had pushed him into the world. He had cried, red-faced and angry and cold while Tomi leaned to put him onto your chest. You had your time with him, cuddling and nursing, his little sounds still expressing his discontentment with the change from your warm womb to a loud, bright world.

They had Daryl take off his shirt, which he didn’t understand until you explained better than any doctor or nurse could. The moment River was pressed against his skin, the connection was apparent to anyone who saw. The baby went silent, wide eyes mirroring the ones Daryl himself had. He had felt guilty for the longest time that River wanted you to feed him and then he wanted his daddy back immediately. He still had his mommy days and you said that was enough.

You were always supportive, never angry or jealous. You’d share the moments with him while he enjoyed them with you. 

It was all what he’d never had, so he’d make sure River, Judith, and RJ never went without it.

His eyes were slow to open, squinting at the traitorous window that dared let the morning rays creep across the bed and to his pillow. It took a few sluggish blinks to remember what day it was and that he was free to go back to sleep until River required either you or him. With a deep breath, he stretched his arms above his head and looked at you, still wrapped around him with your head on his chest. Naked. Still so very, very naked.

He was barely in the bedroom door before you were pushing him against it, almost catching his fingers when he attempted to mute the sound of it closing at his back. You had his shirt unbuttoned and your mouth on his before he could even take a breath. “I told you,” you panted against his lips, “we’re playing chess tonight.” Daryl grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you easily, spinning you to press you against the door. “Goddamn right, we are.” The first round was a frenzied bout of moaning and skin slapping skin, hands covering mouths to keep the noise down. Your nails had left gouges on Daryl’s ass and back, clawing at him for more. You weren’t unscathed. A bruise was blooming on the curve of your right breast, a perfect black and purple bite he had inflicted at some point. It ended with you lying across Daryl’s torso while he was flat on his back with the pillow halfway over his face. Panting and sweating while the sheet covered neither of you where it mattered. Why it was anywhere near either of you was anyone’s guess. The second time was slower, every second savored. Your fingertips memorizing his face while his hips rolled into you, back arching to push himself deeper. His lips were on your forehead, your eyelids, your cheeks and mouth. His fingers danced down your ribcage and back up to your breasts, gentle caresses while he pressed his lips over the mark he’d left earlier. You didn’t have to try hard to roll him over. He went willingly, his hands going straight for your hips. You let your fingers roam his chest and stomach. His scars were yours to explore, he’d given that power over to you long ago. The marks no longer held him prisoner after you’d shown him how to be free. You were incredibly attracted to the way his body had softened with age and he worshiped each wrinkle and stretch mark that time and pregnancy had gifted you. You loved each other wholly, without condition. 

And you laid where you had collapsed, goosebumps on your skin from the cool morning air. Daryl didn’t want to go back to sleep, so he laid there, watching you and just enjoying the silence with the knowledge that his family was safe. That you had survived together and built something so precious.

When River began to fuss, it was Daryl that slipped out of bed and left you to rest a bit longer. He had no qualms with being the one to get up earlier to take care of the baby.

The weekend went by fast, as it often did. Sunday night, he found himself sitting on the couch after the kids were all asleep. He had helped clean up after dinner and was contently watching you pick up toys and fold laundry. He didn’t step in to help because he had no intention of allowing you to continue for long.

“What?” You finally inquired, obviously catching him staring.

“Nothin’.” He smirked, huffing a laugh that came out as an exhale through his nose. You were still regarding him when he stood and beckoned you with a finger. “C’mere.” Your pretty eyes narrowed but you placed the unfolded towel on the top of the pile in the basket and stepped into his space. Daryl wasn’t romantic, truly believed he didn’t have it in him to be anything near it. Still, when he guided your arms to his shoulders and lowered his hands to your hips, he watched you melt.

“There’s no music, Daryl.”

“Don’t need it.” He shrugged, just swaying back and forth with you, pulling you closer until you rested your head against his chest.

“The formidable Daryl Dixon is dancing with me when there’s no music playing. This’ll make the papers. It’ll be the headline.”

“Stop.” He chuckled, pressing a kiss into your hair. He was smiling when you sighed, somehow pressing yourself closer to him. You didn’t react at first when he started to hum, whether you were in shock or just relishing the moment. Maybe both. You let him continue.

It was an old tune, one from a favorite album released more than a decade before the first walker rose from the dead. The tune was slow and deep, his chest vibrating with every drone. Finally, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, the corners of your mouth perked.

“What is that?”

“How dare ya! S’Ozzy, woman.” He feigned offense but was tenderly tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I’ve never heard it.”

Daryl scowled playfully before scrunching his nose. “Remind me why I married ya?” You wrapped yourself around him and with the fondest smile he had ever let cross his face, he held you tighter.

“Because you love me.”

“Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, I do.”

[signedaiko]

Hiiii! May I request some platonic headcanons for MTMTE? I was thinking about a g/n human reader pulling some pranks on some bots on the LL (Ratchet, Rodimus, Rewind) and what their reactions would be.

Ratchet | Rewind | Rodimus [MTMTE]

In which you try pulling a prank on some of your friends aboard the Lost Light.

Reader is: Gender Neutral | Human | Autobot. Platonic.

Ratchet

Your friendship started with you making teasing comments, which eventually led to jokes and seemed to be verging towards pranks

Ratchet was a grumpy one, so while your jokes are welcome, there is a time and place for them

One of those times is not the first thing in the morning, especially when he's preparing to get into a surgery

And yet, as he went to enter his office, he was surprised to run into some kind of thin, transparent film that forced him back onto his aft

You'd spent the whole night lining the door of the medbay with several rolls of plastic wrap, knowing his optics would still be woken up

It came to bite you in the ass; he wakes you up from your sleep after the all-nighter by yelling your name and banging at your door

He's pissy, and now he's making you sit on his desk all day, watching the surgery, and banging his fist on the table every time you start to doze off

You can sleep when he's done and when he feels you've learned your lesson for startling him so early

Rewind

You were the life of the party, in many ways

A lot of Rewind's best recordings come from you

Were all humans this fun? Or were you some rarity?

Either way, he's a big fan, and he's always got his camera rolling if you're there

You also make him feel special because none of your jokes or pranks are aimed at him

In fact, you usually request his help with pranks, be it as small as catching it on tape or something like replaying someone's voice to lure another of the crew

That's what made your plan against him so effective; he never expected himself to be a target of your genius

Until one late evening, he enters the habsuite to get some rest and-

Wait

Why is everything on the wrong side?

Chromedome is there resting, and Rewind wakes him up to ask what's going on

"What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?"

Chromedome fully convinces Rewind he may have something wrong until he pulls up a clip of the room

"Fuck." He hears your small voice come from somewhere behind Chromedome, and he's running at you

"Both of you! Traitors!"

Rodimus

Rodimus knew you better than most others, and while he pretended to scold you in front of Ultra Magnus all the time, he liked the energy you brought

Besides, he was always pulling small pranks of his own, usually on Ultra Magnus, which was cheap and easy, but pranks nonetheless

That meant he presented a challenge, though

Rodimus was very good at telling you were up to something and had caught many of your pranks before

Unfortunately for him, most is not all, and he'd once again been fooled by your trickery

You'd mixed powdered sugar into his paint polish, which made it look shiny at first, but once dried, it left him very sticky and matte and made his paint look uneven

Oh, he knew who'd done it the moment someone pointed it out, and he wasn't going to let you get away with it so easily

Next thing you know, Siren is over the ship's comms claiming there's an emergency and that Rodimus is severely injured in the med bay

Of course you go racing to see him, unaware the announcement was only to your hab suite

He sat there, Rewind by his side, recording as you burst in with emotions evident on your face, only to realize what he'd done

Asshole

Authors Note - I am actually, secretly, the least funny person in the universe so I hope these parnks were realistic in some shape or form! Thank you for requiesting 🩵

[just-a-mer]

Odysseus can't help but giggle at that. More time with him seemed like a plan that he could get behind. However, his smile quickly faded as scales met smooth skin. Slightly panicked, the young prince releases Tiresias' hand and glances between the two quickly.

"Uh - Tir, your snake is on me. What do I do?" Was Erechtheus venomous? Was it planning on biting him? Oh gods, he hoped not. Think of it like an eel, he tried to calm himself, just a slithery friend. Same as the ones he could encounter in the water. He can get used to it. Definitely.

Young Siren!Ody rp/open starter! (Set in the past, of course. Little Ody will not know about future events, but the past... feel free to interact as your present self or as a past version too! Have fun!)

Genre: Fluff?

Word Count: 140

Tw Warning: None!

Odysseus’ small claws dug into the wood of his bow, ears lowered in concentration. His legs were dangled over the edge of a fallen tree, bare feet barely brushing the soft grass. The only other sound between the scraping and nature itself was a quiet melody flowing from his lips. While the lyrics were nothing short of a mumble, they still danced along the wind, carried with gentle hands to greet the ears of whoever listened nearby.

He paused for a moment to blow the pieces of clipped wood from the indentations, wiping the remaining dust out with the edge of his cape before returning to his carving: a series of designs that would not mean anything to the common eye. Forget-me-nots, feathers, scales, and a thick thread all woven together to create a partially completed design on the handle.

Tagged: @totally-penelope-and-not-a-siren @thrpr0phetuseek @jump-into-my-op3n-arms @1ceyanonhasarrived @sleepy-4n0n (let me know if you'd like to be removed - you are also not forced to interact /gen)

[potatoplace]

Mother Knows Best

Poly!SJM Week 2025: Day 2 | @polysjmweek

Kallias x Viviane x Reader

Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist | Event Masterlist

Summary: Your High Lord and Lady, your closest friends, have called you in to see them for dinner. You're worried they know of your feelings for them, but it turns out, you have nothing to fear.

Warnings: mild angst but nothing bad

Words: ~2.2k

Author's Note: here's Day 2! A tiiiny bit late but who cares lol. I really liked getting to write this pairing, I'll definitely be doing more of them in the future!! Also if something doesn't make sense, yes it does. Read it on AO3!

18+ only pls

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

Your knees ached from kneeling on the cold marble for so long, your heart heavy from the prayers you’d been repeating in your head for over an hour.

You blessed me with such friendship, and cursed me with affection.

Please, just let me live without these feelings.

Let me stay with my friends.

Let them love me back.

Over and over, you prayed to the Mother to solve your problem. To keep you from being made to leave your court, to keep you with your oldest friends, the ones you love.

You had grown up in close proximity to both Kallias and Viviane, being an orphaned fae living in the Winter Court’s grand temple, connected to the High Lord’s palace. Your pale blue skin and curved, white horns on your head had made you feel out of place among so many High Fae, but Kal and Viv?

They had befriended you without a thought.

And while Viviane had moved away when you were all in your second century, the three of you had stayed thick as thieves, sneaking away every night before Winter Solstice to Kallias’s cabin, and any other night you could manage. You would stay up all night, catching up on the goings-on in your lives, drinking just enough spiced wine to warm your bodies against the inevitable blizzard raging outside.

Though even without the wine, or the blazing fire in the fireplace, their presence alone would have kept you plenty warm.

Your… Feelings for the pair had arisen on one of those nights, when the three of you had snuggled close under a blanket, Kallias and Viviane on either side of you. The closeness of them, the soft puff of their breath on your neck, the gentle brush of their hands.

Of course, it didn’t help that they were so kind and considerate, always willing to listen to you. And oh, how they brought you so much joy without even trying. Hearing about their day, or even the random, strange thoughts that would pop into their heads never failed to bring a smile to your face, spark the flame of joy within your chest.

And in the last century and a half, those feelings had never faded, only growing stronger with each passing day.

Of course, you had never spoken aloud your attraction, your love for either Kallias or Viviane, utterly afraid of rejection. You saw the way they looked at each other, the pure love in their eyes, even if they were too stubborn to admit it yet. Early on, you suspected that they were mates, with the way they were always on the same wavelength.

Kal had been busy being raised as the High Lord’s heir, most of his days crammed full of meetings and lessons. Viviane had been trained as a courtier, as well as honing her magical abilities with the help of Kallias, their powers so similar. And when Kal had sent her to a large border town, near the Summer Court, she had taken a position of leadership in their armed forces after excelling in physical combat, once given the chance to learn.

You had joined the priesthood early, as soon as you had been allowed by the High Priestess of Winter. She had taken you in at the age of two, the closest you had to a mother. In the four centuries you had been alive, you rose to the top of the ranks, your devotion to the mother and the people of Winter your top priority in every way. Just before the rule of Amarantha, you had earned the title of Head Priestess, just a step below the High Priestess, Jayna.

However… Amarantha had slaughtered most of the priestesses in Winter when your court had rebelled, along with the two dozen younglings who’d had their minds shattered by her daemati. Your near-mother, Jayna, had been among those killed.

In a cruel twist of fate, you had been given her position by Amarantha, her maniacal cackle still ringing in your ears some nights when she had appointed you, laughing about how distraught the Mother would be to see such pitiful scum, a lesser fae, in charge of one of her temples.

But when Kallias had been freed, nearly fifty years later?

He had officially appointed you as High Priestess, a new, more ornate circlet made for you to wear, made to fit easily around your curved horns - a detail that hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Before that, though, before he had given you your title, he had rushed to Viviane, confessing his love and asking for her hand in marriage. Not even a day later, you had married them using your title as High Priestess, your heart so, so happy, but so, so broken, three sharp, jagged pieces constantly digging into your chest.

You were so, unbelievably happy that your friends were married, and even happier that they were happily mated, their bond finally having come to life after the wedding night.

You only wished to be a part of it.

Over the past two years you had slowly withdrawn, leaving your friends space to learn their new relationship dynamic without your presence, an unwelcome third wheel.

Not that they’d indicated any discomfort with you being near them, but… You needed to give them space.

To give yourself space.

But earlier today, while you were taking your lunch, a note had arrived, sealed with Viviane’s personal seal.

Asking you to dinner, saying the three of you had something to discuss.

You’d managed to make your way through the rest of the day without giving away how utterly nervous you were feeling, performing blessings on those who came, seeking your help. An hour before you were due to arrive at the High Lord and Lady’s personal quarters, you sought the guidance of the Mother herself.

Well… Begged for guidance, help from the Mother. She had never led you wrong before, though you wish she’d allowed you more power to save those who had been under your care during Amarantha’s rule.

But now?

She was giving you nothing, no hints as to what to do in this situation.

And you were out of time.

With a sigh, you stood from your kneeling position at the altar, lowering your invoking stone back to your chest, resting over silvery blue robes.

You knew the way to their shared rooms so well, you could have walked the path with your eyes shut. But the closer you came to their door, the slower your steps, the more your nerves told you to turn around.

That wasn’t a possibility, though. You have to face them, even if it’s for the last time, for them to kick you out of their court.

You took a deep breath when you stood before their door, preparing yourself for whatever may happen once you enter. One knock and the door swung open, your hand still poised to knock again.

“Y/N! It’s so good to see you!” Viviane exclaimed, throwing her arms around you and squeezing you tightly, her vanilla and cinnamon scent washing over you as her silver hair bounced over your shoulders. She pulled back to look at you with her sparkling blue eyes before saying, “I feel like it’s been forever! And your hair looks gorgeous, by the way.” Her fingers ran through the ends of your hair, half an inch longer than when she’d last seen you, the natural curls of your azure hair a bit more noticeable.

“Thank you, Viv, and yes… It’s been a bit since we’ve met, just the three of us,” you said as she tugged you inside, closing the door behind you.

Their private dining table, made to seat four, was already set with dinner, steam rising from the roast chicken, and you could spy potatoes, carrots, and onions in the dish surrounding the bird. Kallias was busy pouring the wine, sparkling white, your favorite.

He looked up when you and Viviane approached him, a warm smile crossing his face when he saw you. “Y/N, it’s lovely to see you again dear,” he said before setting the bottle down on the table and approaching you, arms outstretched.

Even with your promise to yourself to give them space, you couldn’t help but melt into his hold, inhaling his refreshing pine and snow scent greedily.

“It’s good to see you too, Kal,” you said with a nervous smile when you pulled away. “The food looks lovely.”

Viviane smiled brightly at you before tugging you to the table, settling you into a chair before taking the one to your right, Kallias sitting to your left. He began carving the roast while Viviane dishes out the roasted vegetables and cut a fresh loaf of bread into thick slices.

Your hands rested uselessly in your lap as you watched them work, twitching every so often when it looks like they need help, but they never truly do.

And by the time the food was plated, your stomach was so twisted in knots all you could do was push food around your plate, occasionally taking a bite when you could manage.

It took maybe ten minutes for one of them to knock you out of your stupor.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” Kallias asked, concerned enough that your eyes snapped from a roast carrot to his ice blue eyes, fear in your heart that you’d been caught.

“Wha- what do you mean is something wrong?” you laughed nervously. “Nothing’s wro-”

“Don’t say that,” Viviane interrupted, a sharp look in her eye. “You’ve been avoiding us for the past year whenever you can, and don’t say you haven’t because you have.” She fixed you with a stare when you opened your mouth to deny the accusation. “And now you’ve barely eaten a thing, and you can’t even look me in the eye,” Viviane noted sadly.

“Don’t try to act like she’s not stating the facts, Y/N,” Kallias said gently, taking one of your hands into his. “We miss you, and we just want to know why. Why you’re pulling away from us.”

With both of them staring at you, their beautiful, concerned eyes watching your every move, you fell apart. You wrenched your hand from Kallias’s grasp to bury your face in both of them, wanting to hide the tears welling in your eyes, even if you knew it was useless in the long run.

You were still here, in their rooms, with few ways to escape the conversation other than fleeing the court entirely. And you weren’t willing to do that, unless you had to.

“Hey,” Viviane said softly, a delicate hand pulling yours away from your face, revealing red eyes with tears pooled in them. One fell down your cheek and Kallias’s thumb brushed it away. “Please, Y/N?”

More tears fell at her plea, and you shook your head. You wouldn’t - couldn’t tell them.

“Will you at least let us tell you the reason we invited you for dinner?” Kallias asked quietly, a hand cupping your cheek gently.

Tell you something? Probably that you’re banished from the court, your mind hissed at you.

But you needed to hear one way or the other.

So you nodded your head.

Viviane took a deep, calming breath before speaking. “I-I wanted to tell you that I love you, Y/N. And I… I’ve loved you for a long time,” she whispered.

Your heart caught in your throat - this couldn’t be real, could it?

Kallias turned your gaze from Viviane to him with a gentle hand on your chin. “I have loved you since we were younglings, Y/N, barely old enough to wander the city without guards accompanying me. I have loved you, and I wish that the mating bond would snap to include you to, I care for you so deeply. And Viv has told me the same, we just…” Kallias sighed.

“We can’t live without you, Y/N. Please, please come back to us,” Viviane pleaded as she held one of your hands tightly in hers.

You could hardly believe what you were hearing - Kallias and Viviane, your friends, your longtime crushes - they had felt the same way about you as you did them for years? A giggle left your lips at the idea, the sheer stupidity of the three of you.

The swish of Viv’s hair told you that she and Kal had made eye contact at the noise, likely exchanging concerned looks.

“Is… Is everything… Okay?” Viv asked shyly.

You giggled again. “Everything is- oh, Mother!” you laughed. “You’re telling me that we could have been happy together all this time?” You looked at the two of them, eyes bright. “Really?”

Viviane grinned at you. “Really,” she breathed.

“When you put it like that, the three of us do seem a bit foolish,” Kal chuckled before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “So? Will you have us?”

You smiled wide as you answered. “Yes!”

Immediately you were pulled from your chair as the two pushed it back, pulling you into their arms. “Oh, thank the Mother,” Kallias sighed.

It was Viviane who kissed you first, her soft, pink lips pressing gently to yours. Kallias’s followed shortly after, pressing more firmly to yours, more sure.

Tears filled your eyes for an entirely different reason.

Perhaps the Mother sent you no sign, no course of action for a reason. To be here.

The Mother knows best, after all.

🩵🩵🤍🩵🩵

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